


Looking, Feeling, Touching

by Roguespirit



Category: Splatoon
Genre: Agent 24, Bi-Curiosity, Budding Love, F/F, Female Agent 3, Female Agent 4, Female Agent 8, Fluff, Friendship, Proper romance in sequel, Slow Burn, world building
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-17
Updated: 2019-09-12
Packaged: 2020-01-15 06:22:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 28
Words: 114,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18493186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Roguespirit/pseuds/Roguespirit
Summary: Ever since the Calamari Inkantation, Eight has always wanted to know more about Inklings. Since coming to the surface, there's one Inkling, in particular, she wants to know more about. As Eight tries to get closer to Three, she realizes she must first learn more about inklings and Three may have her own obstacles to overcome.





	1. Fool me Three

_How sweet or sullen are your dreams?_

 

_Come from a place near paradise_

 

_Your tranquil face betrays no screams_

 

Such were the words that came to Agent 8 upon arriving at the Cuttlefish Cabin just outside Octo Canyon. There, she found Agent 3 sat on a cushion under the veranda, back against the wall and apparently asleep. The paper lanterns hanging above her swayed gently in the breeze coming past Tentakeel Outpost.

 

Eight maintained her distance, staying near the grate covering the pipe back to Inkopolis. She was still wary of Three, despite the inkling having shown her no hostility since her arrival on the surface. Clad in her uniform with the black jacket and reflective vest, she almost gave off the aura of a sleeping predator.

 

Yet, despite that wariness, a part of Eight couldn’t take the eyes off her. It was so surreal, seeing the most hated enemy of Octokind, someone she had fought personally, at the centre of a scene she couldn’t describe as anything less than picturesque. She wondered what someone like Three might be dreaming about.

 

Without realizing it, Eight walked several steps closer to the cabin, beckoned by something unseen. She heard Pearl’s voice in her head telling her she was being silly and she should just relax and be normal. Three wasn’t an enemy anymore and she had no reason to fear her. Quietly and cautiously, Eight sat on the cushion next to the dozing inkling and stared straight ahead, kicking her feet idly.

 

For a while, she watched the nearby birds and fly around and clean themselves in a small puddle in the shade of one of the nearby trees. She listened to their songs, beautiful in their own right and she wondered if bird songs had lyrics. Eventually, however, she lost interest in the birds and her mind kept going back to Three.

 

Curiosity prodded her, like a finger being jabbed and twisted into her side. She had never had a chance to get a good close look at an inkling before and compare their two species. Of course, there had been Captain Cuttlefish, but he was old, and next to her right now was a healthy young female the same age as her and the closest thing to an inkling soldier. What better comparison could there be?

 

Eight gave in to curiosity’s temptations and visually examined Three. She couldn’t see much of her body underneath her uniform but that was not what fascinated her most anyway. Her eyes were drawn to Three’s mantle and tentacles. This close up she could see the subtle shifts in its surface, almost like it was breathing on its own. That wouldn’t happen with any octoling. They had to be able to maintain their camouflage even in sleep. Something as subtle as what Three was doing now could give one away, especially when hiding in an artificial environment.

 

Like some octoling’s tentacles and those of many other inklings it seemed, Three’s tentacles darkened near the ends. In Three’s case, they blended from her natural leafy green to black at the tips, the colour gradient broken up by round spots of varying green shades. Three’s tentacles were much longer and flatter as well, with a large bulb at the end of each.

 

A notion gently touched Eight’s mind and she looked at Three’s face. No sign of her looking any more awake than before. Licking her lips nervously, she extended her hand towards the bulb resting on the floor next to her. For several perilously long seconds, it hovered over the bulb, afraid to do what she wanted so badly to. Finally, she summoned her courage and with the gentleness of a falling feather, placed her hand atop it.

 

She looked up at Three’s face again and denoted no change of expression. She looked as asleep as she had been before. Eight let out a small sigh of relief and gently glided her hand over the bulb’s surface.

 

It was colder than she expected; perhaps because it was so far away from the core of her body. Did inklings use long tentacles as a means of keeping themselves cool? Perhaps that was one reason Three kept her tentacles so long, as opposed to Four’s much shorter more manageable ones.

 

Eight gingerly picked up the bulb and placed it in her lap. Another check to make sure Three was still asleep, then she began to trace the outline of one of the spots with her finger and marvelled at the subtle rippling effect the action stimulated among the local chromatophores.

 

She had known from her education that inklings could communicate simply by changing the colour and patterns in their mantle but not until she had witnessed Three and Pearl have an entire conversation this way did she appreciate the spectacle. Since then, she had learned it was Three’s preferred method of communication. She couldn’t recall the inkling ever speaking, even once.

 

Eight carefully flipped the bulb over, exposing its white underside and the huge sucker in the centre. It was much larger than any of eight’s suckers and it looked quite strong. She recalled something about inklings that their suckers were serrated or had hooks, but as she ran her thumb around the rim of Three’s sucker, it felt perfectly smooth, guaranteed to make a good seal.

 

Eight turned the bulb rightways up again and rested her hand on top of it as she looked back at Three. Again, the inkling gave no indication of being disturbed. Three was either very tired or just a deep sleeper.

 

A wave of purple rippled through Three’s mantle and Eight flinched. Then there was another one. It was only when Eight looked back down in her lap that she realized had been absentmindedly stroking Three’s bulb as if it were a small animal. Was that what was causing this reaction? Eight tried stroking more slowly and the purple ripples turned light orange once and then mellowed to blue for a while before it became a subtle hue shift.

 

That was another thing that had utterly fascinated Eight about inklings. She had learned that inklings sometimes changed colour depending on their mood. She had yet to understand which colour meant what and she also wondered how inklings communicated their real mood if their natural colour was the same colour and hue as the colour of an emotion they didn’t want to convey. This was the first time she had been able to observe it in any kind of close detail. The ripples seemed to spread from Three’s head and then ripple outwards through her tentacles. Unfortunately, she couldn’t figure out if Three was enjoying Eight’s stroking in her unconscious state or not.

 

There was a noise and Eight looked up just in time to see Agent 4 switch from squid form atop the grate. Eight’s whole body jerked in surprise and then she quickly but gently placed Three’s bulb back on the floor and made herself look as innocent as possible.

 

Four took a second to stretch and then started walking towards the cabin. She met Eight’s eyes and smiled. “Hey, Octogirl. You’re here too, eh?” Eight swallowed once and managed a small smile back, then nodded. “Sweet.”

 

Four looked at Three and then raised her Hero Shot. “Hey, Agent Three. Ready to practice with Sheldon’s fancy new gun?” Three’s eyes snapped open and the colour drained from Eight’s face.

 

Three hadn’t been asleep at all. Everything Eight had been doing, Three had been fully aware of and Eight’s supposedly clandestine exploration of inkling anatomy had been blown wide open.

 

Three stood and Eight flinched, hiding her eyes behind her tentacles, waiting to receive some kind of strong reprimand about how things were done on the surface of how what she had done was some kind of crime. She waited and waited, but nothing happened. She furtively curled one tentacle out of the way and saw that Three had joined Four as she walked towards the target range, carrying her older model Hero Shot with her.

 

Eight collapsed against the cabin wall in relief. She didn’t pretend to know Three but what she did know about her suggested that if she wanted to hurt her or felt she needed to teach her a lesson, she wouldn’t leave it.

 

Still, even if Three wouldn’t hurt her, she might have committed some kind of cultural faux-pas she was unaware of, and Three always struck her as a private individual so maybe she had violated her personally.

 

Eight hung her head and curled into a ball as her face burned blue with embarrassment. This, even as Three and Four began popping targets without a care, even as her body changed colour to try and blend in with the cabin. She stayed that way for a long time until someone tapped her gently on the shoulder.

 

“Hey, you okay there, Eight?” Eight looked up into Four’s sunset orange eyes and relaxed a little. Had it been Three, it was possible she would have run for her life. “You looked like somethin’ was botherin’ ya’.”

 

Eight was a fluent speaker of the inkling language but Four’s dialect could be a bit tricky to understand at times. She looked out towards the target range where Three was busy shooting with Four’s Hero Shot. Feeling safe for now, Eight uncurled herself and let out a sigh while Four sat beside her on the cushion Three had used earlier.

 

“What does blue mean?” She asked quietly.

 

“Blue?” Four looked at her, puzzled. “Oh, for our mantles?” She tapped her own head and her mantle turned from yellow-orange to the same blue as the sky.

 

Eight nodded. “Before you came, Three was making blue ripples. What does that mean?” Four hummed and tugged at her bangs in thought.

 

“Well… what kinda’ blue?” Eight frowned, trying to think of how best to describe it and then tried her best to mimic the colour with her own tentacles, turning them as close to the same shade of blue as she could manage.

 

“Oh, that blue.” Four shrugged. “Well, I’m not exactly sure what word really explains it but I always felt the same way after I got tired after a mission and Marie let me lay my head in her lap. She’d even stroke my head and it felt real good. Do you know what I’m saying?”

 

“You liked it?”

 

“Well, sure It felt good and Marie’s a really nice person once you get past the snark, but I like that part about her too I guess.”

 

Eight blinked. “So, Three… liked it….”

 

“Liked what?” Eight shook her head and Four shrugged.

 

“Look, Eight, I know you wanna try and be friends with Three, and I think you can, but that’s gonna take time, ya’ know? You have a past after all.” She nodded at Three. “It’s not easy for that girl. It feels like half of all octolings wanna kiss her, half wanna kill her, but all of ‘em are afraid of her.”

 

Eight nodded. “I want to be friends but I think I need to understand inklings better first.”

 

Four chuckled. “Might be easier if you become friends with a couple of simpler inklings first.” She grasped Eight’s hand tightly. “I’ll be your friend, Eight. Only way to understand us is to hang out with us. Don’t worry about not understanding Three. She’s hard even for me to read. I think only Callie and Marie really get her, but it’s pretty obvious she’s not a bad person, just the strong, silent type, ya’ know?”

 

“I… think so?”

 

Four patted Eight on the back. “Just try not to rush it. Why don’t us two go out after this and eat some food from Crusty Sean’s? Something to wrap your jaws around might be just what you need.”

 

Eight smiled. She didn’t know about Four any more than she did Three, maybe even less, but at least she would get to know at least one inkling better by the end of the day. Maybe someday, that inkling would be Three. Someday....


	2. Bonding? What's that?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Agent 4 takes Agent 8 to Inkopolis Square for some chow and Eight gets a lesson in Inkling relationships.

Eight loved Inkopolis Square. The activity, the joy and energy that seemed to permeate the very air, the music, the glowing billboards, all of it was beyond what she had dreamed before coming to the surface, and Crusty Sean’s food truck was a gem in the square’s crown.

 

Just like every other time Eight had gone to the Crust Bucket, there was a long queue. It wound like a snake through that corner of the square and got longer still as turf matches ended and both players and spectators left Deca Tower and sought fast food.

 

Eight was used to long waits for meals from her time as a soldier so she didn’t join in the impatient grumbling of the inklings around her. Instead, she listened to the new Squid Sisters album playing from the truck’s speakers.

 

“It’s weird,” Four mumbled quietly beside her. Eight raised an eyebrow and Four elaborated. “I mean, hearing Marie’s voice like this. It wasn’t until we found Callie that I heard her sing. I didn’t even know what the Squid Sisters really were until even later.”

 

Eight stared at her, eyes wide with disbelief. “But how? Even in the Metro, there was a magazine with them in it. It called them the biggest stars in the world.” She swept her arm before her, gesturing to the video billboards all around the square. Both Callie and Marie appeared several times, usually advertising some product or another. Four’s face blued and a ripple of cyan went through her short mantle.

 

“Hey, Off the Hook were the ones lighting up the screens when I first got here. They had just taken over Inkopolis News so it was a big deal. Besides, I’m a country girl so seeing all this for the first time was overwhelming, you know? My family didn’t have TV and nobody listened to modern music in Little Reef so I never learned about the ‘Fresh’ stuff sweeping the nation. We were kinda’ isolated.”

 

Eight looked at her, her tentacles curling inwards at the ends in thought. “So, you know some of how I felt when I came here.”

 

Four shrugged. “I guess as much as any inkling can. You know, I’m actually kinda glad though, because I was able to learn who Marie the inkling was before I learned about Marie the idol, ya’ know?” Eight smiled in hearty agreement. 

 

The Squid Sisters were virtual demi-goddesses to the freed octolings and even Eight was forced to admit she still felt somewhat overwhelmed just being in their presence. They were immensely talented in so many things and beautiful beyond words. As people, they were both kind, thoughtful, and generous. Both had spent considerable sums of their hard earned money helping the octolings who had made it to inkopolis. In return, they had the everlasting respect and adoration of virtually every freed octoling, Eight included.

 

The line shuffled forward. Crusty Sean was a fast worker and most of those in the queue were regulars who already knew what they wanted before they arrived so progress was steady. Eight decided it would be a good use of her time stuck in-line to do some people watching.

 

A jellyfish across the square was touching the ground with a single tendril extended more than twice the length of its own body. It just stayed there, unmoving as if frozen in place. Eight was about to ask Four about it but some cheering and shouting diverted her attention.

 

A nearby crowd surrounded a table where two inkling boys were arm wrestling. Some of the other boys in the crowd were arguing over who would get to challenge the winner, eliciting eye rolls from the girls. At the same time, however, some of the girls seemed just as invested in the contest as the boys.

 

“Are inkling males highly competitive?” She quietly asked Four.

 

“Oh yeah,” Four grinned. “They do all kinds of stupid stuff to get attention. My brother jumped off a cliff into shallow water for a dare once and he wasn’t allowed to use squid form. Broke the cartilage in both his legs.”

 

Eight winced. “That would never be allowed in Octarian society. A male like that might not be allowed to breed. No offence.”

 

“None taken. All boys are stupid and sometimes I think we girls are even dumber because we like ‘em anyway.” She smiled and shrugged. “My granny said that males do a lot of stupid things but the stupidest things they do are always for the girl they like.”

 

Eight smiled a little herself. “That’s kind of nice, in a way.”

 

“I wouldn’t exist if it wasn’t,” Four said with a roll of her eyes. “Mom was really popular and she was a two-egger, so a lot of boys wanted her. To get them off her back, she said she would only date a boy who brought her this special flower that only grows on the top of the mountain. The climb up and down was really dangerous and Dad was the only one stupid enough to try.”

 

Eight raised an eyebrow. To her, the idea that a male would do anything dangerous was anathema, but she reminded herself that inklings were different and maybe there was a good reason she was as yet unaware of, so she kept her true feelings submerged.  “But was he not also smart enough to succeed?” Four’s mantle changed to a lighter shade of yellow, one warm and sunny, just like the smile she wore.

 

“I guess. My dad is pretty amazing in a lot of ways. He built our whole house himself, made a swingset for me and my sister in the backyard, and worked late for two months to get Mom a special necklace for her birthday, one year.”

 

“A father to be proud of, it seems. Perhaps he wasn’t as stupid as you thought. It does seem like whoever you end up with has a lot to live up to.”

 

Four giggled “That’s a long ways off. I’m not even thinking about it right now. Besides, I feel like dating would just get in the way of how I want to live my life right now. It can wait until I’m in my twenties.”

 

By the time that conversation was done, the wait to Sean’s food truck was mercifully short. After receiving their orders, Four and Eight found a table with an umbrella to shade them from the sun and sat down.

 

“Dang, girl. You sure you’re gonna be able to eat all that?” Eight had ordered a Galactic Seanwich and a deep fried Shwaffle.

 

“I don’t earn a lot of tickets so I try to get as much of the menu as I think I can. I want to be able to try every item.”

 

“But you don’t have to try them all at once.” Four shrugged and took a bite out of her own Seanwich. “So, what do you wanna do after this? With the belly you’re gonna’ have it probably shouldn’t be anything too active.” Eight couldn’t deny that.

 

“Perhaps Jelfonzo’s? I would like to see if there are any new shirts that have come in.”

 

“You’ll definitely need a bigger one after you eat all that,” Four smirked. “I guess we can do that. I don’t like Jelfonzo though; always thinks he knows what’s looks best. I wanna follow my own style and wear what I want. Besides, I’m pretty sure if I wasn’t fresh, Marie woulda’ told me by now.”

 

“I don’t know what looks good, so I find his advice useful; although, his speech is difficult to understand.”

 

“He talks ye old timey Inklish. We haven’t talked like that since Inkopolis became a city. I’m surprised you can understand him at all since you didn’t grow up here.”

 

“Almost every octoling has to learn Inklish as part of our education. Part of ‘understanding the enemy.’” She pushed one tentacle to her cheek in thought. “Actually, I’ve noticed that Captain Cuttlefish speaks Octese.”

 

“Sure, every member of the NSS does. Well, I’m still learning. Callie speaks it the best, which makes sense I guess.”

 

“Really?” Eight was surprised at this. True, knowing the octarian language would be useful but how did they learn it? Who taught them? Did that mean Three understood the conversations she had with Marina in Octese?

 

“Hey, what’s bugging you?”

 

Eight shook her head. “Nothing, I am just surprised. I suppose I never thought that an inkling would want to learn my language.” 

 

“Hey,” Four reached across the table and put her hand on top of Eight’s, looking directly into her amber eyes. “Being an octoling doesn’t make you any worse than us. Sure, a lot of octarians are jerks and I can’t say I feel sorry for splatting them, but lots of inklings are jerks too; you just haven’t met them yet.” She grinned. “If you do, you let me know and I’ll beat them up for being mean to my friend. I can pretty much guarantee that Three would do the same. Callie and Marie have to maintain their image, but that’s what we’re here for.”

 

_ ‘Friend?’ _ Other than Marina, she didn’t consider herself close enough to anyone else to call them a friend, but if Four thought they were close enough, she felt no compulsion to argue. 

 

_ ‘Wait.’  _ She had to check herself. ‘Friends’ might have a different context for an inkling than an octoling. After all, ‘father’ clearly had a different meaning to Four, it was likely ‘friend’ did too. Still, even in the octoling context, she wasn’t opposed to such a relationship with Four and maybe this would be a step to becoming friends with Three as well.

 

Eight gave Four’s hand a light squeeze. “I will try to return the favour any way I can. I actually wanted to buy you some ice cream in return for bringing me to the Crust Bucket.”

 

“You’re gonna eat ice cream too? You’re gonna get sick from so much eating.”

 

Eight looked at her with wide eyes. “You can get sick from eating even if the food isn’t harmful?”

 

Four laughed. “Eight, you need to learn about overindulgence a little.” Then she grinned. “Fortunately, an inkling is the best teacher.”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Eight’s life had been full of revelations over the past couple of years. The Inkantation, the Metro, Tartar, Inkopolis, and now, this. Four had just revealed that not only could one ask for more than one scoop of ice cream on their cone, but each one could be a different flavour. And so, Eight ordered two cones each stacked with three scoops of different flavours. Inkopolis truly was the promised land.

 

Four shook her head and licked her own single scoop of a flavour called butterscotch marble. “Two Crusty Meals, a soda, and six scoops of ice cream? Eight, you’re gonna have a zapfish of a tummy ache by the time you finish those.”

 

“I’m sure my tummy is just happy to have so much food,” Eight assured her. “It’s spent so much of my life being empty, after all.” 

 

“Whatever you say,” Four replied in a singsong voice. “I just hope you can eat it before it melts.” Eight smiled confidently. This was nothing compared to the challenges in the metro.

 

The two sat on a nearby bench and Eight resumed her people watching as she alternated licks between her two cones. There were a lot of couples, she noticed, male and female walking hand in hand, with the other hand holding an ice cream, but there were also cases of two females doing the same.

 

“What does it mean when two females walk hand in hand?” She asked.

 

Four looked at her, blinking, confused. “Uh… nothing by itself except maybe that they’re friends. I guess if you go deeper they might be bonded, but you don’t have to be that close just to hold hands.”

 

Eight frowned. “Bonded?”

 

Four hummed, her face wrinkled in thought. Her mantle broke out into pink and blue spots, while ripples of grassy green and passionate red washed over it. “Do you know what a soulmate is?”

 

Eight searched her Octese lexicon for something along the lines of someone spiritually mating or something but found nothing and shook her head.

 

“It’s like someone you love and treasure a lot. Someone you trust with your life and can tell your deepest darkest secrets to.”

 

“More so than a friend?”

 

“It’s deeper and more… um… intimate, than a friend?”

 

“Oh…” Eight felt she understood now. “We have something similar in our culture. In the army, most females don’t have access to males unless they visit one of the garrisons or forts, so they end up turning to each other for companionship. Sometimes things can get… very intimate. The lieutenant of my splatoon had such a relationship with the lieutenant of the other splatoon at Fort Suckerman.” She coughed as Four’s mantle turned a very light pink and her face blushed blue. “Obviously, not every such relationship goes quite that deep, but officers are always under a lot of pressure and such relationships with subordinates are taboo so…”

 

Now it was Four who coughed. “Well, um, a soulmate isn’t exactly someone like that. I didn’t mean physically intimate; a soulmate it more of a spiritual and emotional thing. Even if you’re a girl you can have a guy as a soul mate, it’s just rare and that can make things awkward if you’re looking for a husband, that is, a regular mate.”

 

“Can your soulmate not become your mate in that case?”

 

Four looked uncertain. “I guess but it’s usually a case of a relationship not working out enough to make a life together but well enough to stay close. Even then, they usually just stay friends. It’s less complicated that way.”

 

“But you have so many males available. Why would such a thing be necessary among females?”

 

Four sighed. “It isn’t always; in fact, most of the time it isn’t, but some girls… they just need that, you know? I know someone once explained it like, ‘Males and females are different, and no matter how hard a male might try to understand a female and want to help her, he can’t.’”

 

“I see. So a soulmate is someone who understands you deeply.”

 

“Yeah, something like that, and naming someone as your soul mate means that someone else knows who to go to if they think you’re in some kind of trouble and don’t know enough about you to help.”

 

“Oh, I had a friend like that, back in the days before the Inkantation.” Eight licked her ice cream and stared up at the sky. That friend, precious as she had been and still was, seemed so distant now. The sky above, unlike the sky she had known back then, didn’t flicker, had no black squares where a monitor had failed or relied on electricity. “I don’t know what happened to her, but I do miss her.”

 

“Well, maybe she’ll show up.” Four shrugged. “Plenty of octolings still coming.”

 

“I hope so,” Eight sighed. “But you still haven’t explained what ‘bonding’ is.”

 

“Yeah, sorry, I had to explain the rest of that for you to understand what ‘bonding’ means. Bonding, is like soulmates but on an even deeper level.”

 

Eight frowned. “How could something be deeper than soulmate without mating?”

 

“The difference,” Four explained, “is that bonding is like a soulmate, but there’s law behind it. Sorta like how you don’t need to be married to make a baby but it’s still something that matters and it has a lot of benefits. Like how my parents share a bank account, I guess.”

 

“You don’t know?”

 

“I’m fourteen, give me a break.” Four pouted and took a bite out of her ice cream. “Someone your age should be the one explaining this to me. I don’t know a lot about bonding other than what I know from movies in the cinema. There weren’t any bonded females in Little Reef. My mom had a soulmate though, so I know that much. Maybe try asking Pearl about it. She’s in her twenties, she ought to know. Heck, I’m sure a lot of fans would be crazy happy if she bonded with Marina.”

 

Eight hummed thoughtfully. She didn’t know what to say to that. It was a lot to think about, so much new information to process. How confounding though. Inklings called themselves a people with simple desires yet why was this so complicated? Eight decided it was better to focus on eating her ice cream before it melted. That was at least a tangible problem she could solve. 

 

A little over five minutes later, she had finished the top scoops on both cones; however,  Eight felt horrible. Her stomach churned and gurgled, and she felt a mild pain. She could even feel it pushing against the fabric of her shirt, something she hadn’t thought possible without being laden with eggs.

 

Four, who had already finished her ice cream cone, gave her a knowing look. “Trouble in tummy town there, Eight?”

 

Eight nodded. “I feel sick, and it hurts.”

 

“I told you, you would regret it. You’ll just have to throw it out.”

 

“I can’t do that!” Eight insisted. “Wasting food is a horrible sin, and a crime.”

 

“You’ll seriously regret it if you finish those cones.” Four’s expression and tone were totally serious.

 

“It’s my responsibility. I bought this food; I have to finish it, or die trying.” A short while later, Eight wished she had died trying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I was pleaded with to continue this story even though I didn't plan for it to be any more than a one-shot. Next thing I know, I'm writing chapter 3.... Well, it benefits all of you I guess. I hope you like where this story is going. Updates will be sporadic at best since this is more of a whim side project, but I hope you'll enjoy it.


	3. Wishing for Numbness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eight discovers the hard way that there is such a thing as eating too much.

“Splat me, Four, I’m begging you.”

 

Eight had been thrilled at the new experiences Inkopolis offered since she had found that magazine in the Metro. Unfortunately, the magazine hadn’t mentioned tummy aches and burping as a consequence of eating so much of the wonderful food it advertised. The burping was actually somewhat satisfying as each belch brought a small, temporary relief to the pain the infernal tummy ache induced. For now, Eight lay on the bench on her side, clutching her aching abdomen, her face twisted with pain.

 

“I warned you,” Four admonished. “But you didn’t listen to me. You just decided to listen to that greedy gut of yours instead.”

 

“I’m sorry! Please, I will never do it again. Just make it stop.”

 

“You should be making that plea to the gods because there’s nothing I can do. You’ll just have to ride it out. Don’t worry, I called for backup. Once they get here we’ll take you home.” Eight’s only reply was a mournful groan, followed by several more sounds of pain and discomfort that lasted almost a full minute. 

 

Four sighed. “Here, lift your head.” Eight did as she was asked and heard Four shuffle until her leg was pressed against her shoulder. Then, she felt Four gently push her head down until it lay in her lap.

 

Eight moaned softly and nuzzled Four’s thighs. It didn’t dilute the pain in her stomach but it did mix in some pleasantness. It was a lot more comfortable than the hard bench and kept her neck level as well. Her mind drifted as old memories were stirred to the surface, distant recollections of having rested her head in someone’s lap before but she couldn't place faces or locations or dates.

 

Things got worse for Eight when concerned strangers began coming over and asking if everything was okay. Eight turned to face towards Four to hide; unfortunately, it meant she was looking at Four’s perfectly flat stomach, a mocking visual reminder that hers was currently not. One of the curses of being a squishy cephalopod.

 

“Oh, great, you’re here.” Four said eventually. Eight turned to see who it was Four had called and immediately wished she hadn’t.

 

Three stared down at them, dressed in a casual but stylish jacket, one green eyebrow arched in Eight’s direction. Eight’s shame increased tenfold and her tentacles moved of their own accord to hide her face from view. Three looked at Four admonishingly, her mantle turning dark orange with spots of purple and light-red.

 

“I  _ tried _ to warn her but she didn’t listen to me; she said she didn’t want to waste food.” Three frowned and Four huffed. “Hey, I don’t know what an octoling’s limits are when it comes to eating, much less hers. She could have out-eaten Callie for all I knew. Come on, she’s in pain. Let’s just take her home.”

 

Four helped Eight to sit up. That hurt. Eight’s insides shifted and her stomach’s contents sloshed about from the movement, eliciting another burp. She actually smelled that one and it was not pleasant.

 

“Cover your mouth when you do that,” Four scolded sharply. It was the tone a mother used when admonishing a child. It was a sharp contrast to the more relaxed and ‘up for whatever’ girl she thought her to be. Perhaps Three’s own chastisements were getting to her.

 

She took Eight’s left arm and put it over her shoulders. Three did the same with her right arm and then they both lifted her up together. Again, the movement caused her stomach to slosh about, but this time Eight stifled her belch with her tentacles.

 

“Is it the ice cream that is making me do this?” she groaned.

 

“Too much ice cream mixed with fast food,” Four clarified. “I mean, I admire you goin’ totally full bore on trying to experience your new life but you still shoulda’ listened to me.” 

 

Three arched an eyebrow at Four, her mantle turning yellow with purple spots. Four looked offended. “I do too listen to my elders; I take orders from Marie all the time.” Three rolled her eyes but didn’t pursue the issue further. Eight was somewhat sorry about that because such an odd argument was a welcome distraction from her own pain and discomfort.

 

Leaving the square, they hailed a cab and the two inklings helped Eight sit down in the middle of the back seat, the two of them sitting on either side of her. Eight bid the driver, a spider crab, to take them to Pearl and Marina’s condo and then they all settled in for the ride.

 

Eight groaned as another sharp lance of pain lashed her body. The vibrations from the car ride seemed to be stimulating her stomach contents. They seemed to be getting worse. Four reached out and gently took her left hand, giving it a comforting squeeze. Eight loled her head over to look at her but Four was staring out the window, her eyes distant.

 

Eight flinched as she felt something touch her stomach through the fabric of her shirt. She snapped her head back to the right and looked down at her middle, and saw a hand, Three’s hand just started to caress her middle where it pushed out against her shirt. Eight’s tentacles flared outwards in surprise and wondered what Three was trying to do, and then she was hit by a wave of what could only be described as pure pleasure.

 

Eight cooed softly as Three’s hand gently worked up and down or made small circles over the curve of her stomach. For Eight, this had to be one of the most wonderful physical sensations she had ever experienced. The pain was still there but diluted. Her abdomen felt warm and the tension in her muscles seemed to relax a bit as Three’s hand worked its magic.

 

Three looked up and ruby met amber as the two stared into each other’s eyes. It took Eight a moment to realize that Three was asking if what she was doing was alright with her. Eight smiled and, after a second of thought, turned her tentacles to that same serene blue colour Three herself had rippled just earlier that day. Three responded with a tiny smile of her own and then continued soothing Eight’s troubled stomach until they arrived at the condo building. Eight was almost sorry the car ride was so brief.

 

Eight paid for the cab and then let Four and Three help her to the building. Four used Eight’s pass to open the security door and then they passed the guards to the elevator and rode it up to Pearl and Marina’s penthouse. When they rang the doorbell, Marina was there to greet them.

 

She gasped. “Eight, what happened?” Eight tried to give her a reassuring smile but she only managed a grimace.

 

“Tummy ache,” Four answered instead. “A little too much Crusty and ice cream.” Oddly, Marina blushed slightly before beckoning them inside. 

 

The three agents removed their shoes and then made their way into the living room. Four let out a low whistle as she gazed around the luxurious suite, wide-eyed like a child. Eight had felt much the same way when Pearl and Marina offered to put her up and she first saw it. Three didn’t seem to react at all.

 

“Just put her on the couch for now,” Marina said. They were just helping Eight to lie down on said couch when Pearl emerged from the hallway. 

 

“Eight, you look terrible. What the heck happened?” Eight managed to give her a proper smile in response, trying to let her know she was alright, but then Pearl looked suspiciously at Marina. Marina blushed deeper and her long front tentacle crossed over her face diagonally.

 

Sighing Pearl headed over to the couch and sat by Eight’s head before maneuvering it into her lap and starting to stroke her head and her stomach in a wonderful display of multitasking.

 

“Really, Marina?” She scolded her partner. “You didn’t warn her about the tummy aches?”

 

Marina let out a childish whine and puffed her cheeks in a pout. “It just slipped my mind, that’s all. I didn’t expect her to take up turf wars so quickly and earn tickets for Crusty Sean’s so often either.”

 

“Ah,” Four grinned. “So the same thing happened to you?”

 

Pearl laughed as Marina’s face turned still bluer, right up to her ears. “Yup, pretty much the first day we moved in together. We went out to a buffet for dinner and she went a little overboard. Even after she rushed to the bathroom and threw up she was sick for a while.”

 

“It’s our diet,” Marina said defensively. “Eating mostly nutrition cubes and rations doesn’t exactly make for a robust digestive system. It just wasn’t used to digesting those foods so it made me kind of sick.”

 

Four frowned. “But, Eight’s been in Inkopolis for like, a week and this is the first time it’s happened.”

 

“I know. She’s eaten dinner with us, for the most part, and the two times we’ve taken her to the Crust Bucket. She had other things to eat in the Metro so she was probably able to adapt more gradually than I did.”

 

Pearl chuckled. “Too bad since we were thinking of going out for dinner.” Eight moaned with regret and Four laughed.

 

“I don’t mind staying at home,” Marina said, finally coming out from behind her own tentacle. “It feels like we’re barely here these days except to sleep.” She looked at Three and Four. “You’re welcome to join us if you like.”

 

“Totally!” Four said excitedly. “You were the first music group I learned about when I came to Inkopolis. It would be like a dream.”

 

Marina blinked and then smiled apologetically. “I’m sorry. You are?”

 

“Just call me ‘Four’.”

 

Three frowned thoughtfully and then looked at Pearl, turning her mantle brown with spots of green. Pearl responded with green and spots of yellow. Three then turned a dark, melancholy blue.

 

“It’s okay, Three; don’t worry about it. Do what you gotta’ do.” Three bowed appreciatively and then quietly left the penthouse. 

 

Marina stared at Pearl who then clarified. “Three said that she had to go home and she’s sorry she couldn’t stay.”

 

“Oh…” Marina stared at the door and then back towards the living room. “Is Three, mute?”

 

Four smirked. “Nah, she just doesn’t talk much. Marie told me it’s just a habit she got into when her neck got hurt in an accident when she was a kid. I think she’s kinda’ embarrassed to talk, actually.”

 

“That would explain the cape she wore when we met her,” Pearl smirked. “Girl lets you know what she’s about without a word.”

 

“I think it’s just her pretending she’s a superhero,” Four laughed.

 

“I don’t think it’s a bad thing,” Marina smiled. “I think that actions speak louder than words anyway. Besides, it’s refreshing to have someone around who doesn’t like flapping their mouths constantly.”

 

“Was that a shot?” Pearl demanded.

 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Pearlie. You know I would never say anything negative about you.” Pearl opened her mouth to retort and then slowly closed it again. Marina grinned victoriously and Eight heard Pearl mutter something about getting even; although, her mantle only rippled slightly.

 

“So what do we do about Eight?” Four asked.

 

“A hot bath should help,” Pearl said.

 

“I’ll take care of that.” Marina waved Pearl away and she helped a reluctant Eight to her feet. “I know, Pearl’s tummy rubs are great, but we need to get you better. A hot bath is soothing.” Eight sighed and nodded. Her mind was elsewhere anyway.

 

Her mind replayed what Four had said about Three. The idea of this paradise of a city having accidents seemed impossible. To Eight, Inkopolis was a perfect city, or at least as close to it as mere mortals could manage.

 

In Octo Valley or Octo Canyon, an octoling would be considered fortunate if they only suffered an accident that caused temporary damage. Most accidents resulted in permanent injury or loss, with many losing loved ones or comrades in the deathtrap of the deteriorating domes. Falling debris, collapsing structures, disease, there were a great many ways to die there.

 

Three was lucky to have been born in Inkopolis, a place where such things didn’t happen. Four spoke of the accident as if it were nothing significant, which seemed to indicate Three’s injury was not particularly traumatic. 

 

_ How lucky, _ Eight thought with a smile.  _ I’m glad you got better, Three. It’s alright if you don’t want to talk. _

 

_ Words are easy and cheaply sold _

 

_ You stick to colours, gentle and bold _

 

_ Your spoken word as precious as gold _

  
  


\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Sunset Fields was not the most upscale suburb of Inkopolis, but it was relatively quiet and peaceful. That was why Three liked it. 

 

Instead of traditional streets, city planners had experimented with having only a handful of streets going straight through and connected all the houses through back lanes. Thus, instead of streets, most houses were interconnected by large concrete pathways that didn’t need to be maintained as much as streets and offered a much quieter neighbourhood for the elderly and a safer one for young children.

 

People jogged by as she walked, making use of the large pathway to maintain a brisk pace with less risk of bumping into someone. She passed a new skate park where kids did stupid stunts with their bicycles, skateboards, and scooters.

 

As she got close to home, people started waving at her, little children ran up and hugged her legs, and then Mrs. Sanshore, an elderly Inkyora, waved her over and handed her a bag. 

 

“Just some fresh veggies from the garden for your family, sweetie. Be sure to thank your father again for me.” Three bowed her head to the old inkling in thanks and then moved on.

 

Mrs. Sanshore wasn’t the only one to give her things to carry home. Strawberries from Ms. Hiller, a bag of freshly baked buns from Mrs. Doron, and a bottle of apple cider from Mr. Seamount. Three carried the bottle and small bag of strawberries in her arms, while the bag of veggies and baked buns each occupied one sucker. 

 

It was a relief to reach home, a small, white two-story house with stout bushes on either side of the front steps. Those steps rang hollow as Three climbed them and pushed through the front door.

 

The smell of freshly baked cookies and the elegant bleats of saxophone music welcomed her home. Despite her load, she stayed a moment in the porch, taking in that wonderful smell, drinking in the familiar song that always made her think of home and family.

 

Footsteps foretold the arrival of the household’s head before she emerged from the adjacent room: a tall Inkyora with light brown mantle and eyes. On her left middle finger, she wore a beautiful band of gold studded with diamond chips and crowned with one large green stone. On her right middle finger, she wore another ring, this one white with a thin band of gold coiled around it. At the top of that ring was a flower with petals made of white crystal and girdled with silver. In the centre of the flower was a bright red ruby. 

 

Her eyes softened to the texture of pudding when she saw Three and she came to her with open arms. “Welcome home, little squeeze.” She bent down and the two touched noses. For Three, it felt like the balloon of pressure and expectations that had been surrounding her all day had just popped. Three responded with bright green and broad rippling bands of yellow.

 

“Are all these from the neighbourhood?” Three nodded and handed the items to her. Three then displayed a worried yellow and was given a resigned smile and dark blue spots in return.

 

“Yes, your father’s been helping everyone again. I’m honestly worried he’ll burn himself out at this rate. I love him to bits and I’m so proud to call him my husband but I wish he wouldn’t work so hard.”

 

“I’m not overworking myself, Purdie,” a gruff voice said from behind her. “You just spent too long with inklings who didn’t work at all.” Purdie turned around, revealing Three’s father.

 

It was from him that Three had inherited her green colouration, although, his tentacles merely blended to a much darker green and not black as hers did. He was only of average height for an Inkyar, being up to Purdie’s chest in stature, but he had a strong build with firm, muscular limbs and sturdy torso. He crossed his arms and looked with disapproval at his wife but she was unimpressed and admonished him.

 

“You practically collapsed when you got home last night. Don’t tell me you’re not overworking yourself.”

 

“It’s just been a rough week, that’s all. You may be head of the household, Purdie, but-.”

 

“But nothing, Dekin. I’m the ruling female of this home which means it’s my responsibility to make sure everyone in it is healthy and looked after, which includes my stubborn-as-rocks husband.” She pressed down on his head, making him bend at the knees. Dekin looked at Three pleadingly.

 

“Honey, help Daddy out?” But Three crossed her arms and her tentacles, turning her mantle a disapproving violet-red.

 

Purdie finally released his head, letting Dekin stand back up to his full height. “Now go welcome our precious daughter home properly while I take care of these.”

 

“‘These’ being tokens of appreciation for my hard work,” Dekin called after her, but she didn’t reply. He sighed and then smiled, opening his arms and Three rushed into them, wrapping her arms around her father and doing the same with her tentacles. Despite now being slightly taller than he was, he still lifted her off the ground with ease and held her tightly.

 

“Welcome home, princess. Always feels too quiet when you’re not here. Sometimes I think your iya and I argue just to fill in the empty space.” He let out a melancholy sigh. “I guess that’s the pain of having your only child growing up.”

 

Three rolled her eyes, having heard the same speech many times before. She kissed him on the forehead and then followed him into the living room. He went to the computer desk and resumed playing the saxophone music as he browsed one of his sports pages. Purdie was in the kitchen putting cookies onto a plate.

 

Three veered right and went to a small stepped shelving unit against the wall. The bottom tiers had various nicknacks from her family’s travels but the very top had a single photograph flanked by two white candles. The image was of an Inkyora who, despite her scarlet mantle and eyes, had the warmest, most inviting smile imaginable. In her arms, she held a toddler who stared back at the camera with wide red eyes identical to the Inkyora’s, and to Three’s.

 

Three gently pressed her forehead to the silver picture frame and then leaned back, smiling as she looked into the eyes of the female inkling in the photo. “I’m home, Mama.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know a lot of people have been curious about what "Bonding" is and how different Inklings treat love and family compared to us humans due to their own unique circumstances. Well, hopefully, this chapter offers a few nuggets of that. I hope you enjoy this chapter. There will be more to come.


	4. Camaraderie and Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Camaraderie and Family: You miss it when you've lost it.

It felt like the cruellest of ironies to Eight, having to eat a nutrition cube even though she had already reached the promised land. Brown with white spots, she was sure it wouldn’t look at all appetizing to an inkling but Eight was so used to them she barely registered the bland taste and the grainy texture. In fact, the familiarity was comforting, in a way.

 

After the worst gastronomic consequences had passed, Eight had done some light exercise in the time leading up to dinner to help digest the food. Four had recommended a place she claimed made the best fried chicken in Inkopolis. Eight had been eager to try it. She’d never had chicken of any kind before.

 

“Oh no you don’t,” Marina had said, waving her finger. “No more junk food until that tummy’s nice and flat again. If you eat even more you’re going to get properly sick. You need to bring your body’s equilibrium back.” 

 

Marina’s prescription to restore that equilibrium was one of the handfuls of nutrition cubes Eight still had from the metro. Marina assured her that the familiarity of it and the nutrients it provided would go a long way to easing her digestive woes. Eight still wished she could partake in the wonderful dinner they brought but she saw it as suitable punishment for her carelessness and not heeding Four’s advice, and discipline was no stranger to any soldier.

 

Eight sat on the end of her bed, the nutrition cube gripped by one of her tentacles while her arms pumped dumbbells. This was an all too familiar routine, one she could recall from her training days. As it turned out, it didn’t matter where you were, looking after your health was still important.

 

There was a knock on her door and Eight bid whoever was on the other side to come in. It was Four, and she had a look on her face that suggested she was up to something. One thing octolings and inklings had in common were the facial expressions, something Eight was grateful for.

 

Four quickly shut the door behind her and gave Eight a face-splitting smile. “Hey, Eight. You doing better now?”

 

Eight looked at her somewhat questioningly but nodded. “My tummy’s still sticking out but it’s better now and only aches a little bit.”

 

“That’s good.” Four looked around the room, her eyes locking onto every little thing, not that there was much to look at.

 

Eight’s room probably seemed modest by Inkopolis standards. It was the guest room for Pearl and Marina’s suite that had now become hers. The walls were bare except for a single Squid Sisters poster signed by both members, a dresser between the closet and door; and a small television sat atop it. The only other piece of furniture in the room was her bed, which Pearl had called a ‘single bed’ but it was at least twice as wide as any cot or bedroll Eight had ever slept on. 

 

“Isn’t it kinda weird having a Pearl and Marina blanket?” Four asked, eyeing the bed. Eight shrugged. “And they let you have a Squid Sisters poster in your room?”

 

“Why not?” Eight asked. “Besides, Marina has several on her walls.” Four laughed out loud and sat on the floor next to her.

 

“Well, sounds like your happy here then. You like your room?”

 

“I do. I’ve never had my own room before.”

 

“I bet. It’s probably quieter than the metro too. Must’ve been hard to sleep in a train.”

 

Eight shook her head. “No, I didn’t have any trouble. The seats were relatively clean and it wasn’t so noisy it didn’t bother me.”

 

“But what about privacy? You didn’t mind all those strangers staring at you while you slept?”

 

Eight stared at her. “Um, why would they stare?”

 

“I dunno… ‘cause you’re there? Especially with your memories lost, I figured you’d be nervous about everyone.”

 

Eight shook her head. “No, I honestly don’t think I was scared of anyone on the metro train itself. Everyone was very nice and friendly and most of them slept on the train at some point too. Besides, I’m used to sleeping with a lot of people around. I’ve spent most of my life in barracks where I shared a room with between fifteen and twenty-three other octolings.”

 

“Yikes, and I complained about sharing a room with just my sister. Actually, it was a room about as big as this one. We had bunk beds though. I was the one on the top ‘cause my sister was afraid of falling out of bed.”

 

Eight smiled and nodded. “I knew people like that.”

 

“I think everyone does.” Four pointed to Eight’s tentacle. “Is that the nutrition cube thing Marina mentioned?”

 

“Yes, I’m actually feeling a little bit better after eating a little bit of it.”

 

Four’s smile faded. “Yeah, Marina told me and Pearl about what kind of diet you grew up on. Going to bed hungry for weeks at a time, sometimes running out of food in the middle of a deployment, and sometimes going whole days without eating to conserve food.” She twiddled her thumbs and her mantle turned white with an underlying shade of dark blue. “Sorry I was so hard on you before, Eight. I knew you went through some rough stuff growing up but I didn’t know it was as bad as that.”

 

“You meant well,” Eight said softly. “And missing out on dinner is what I deserve. You did warn me and I didn’t listen to you. It’s for my own good.”

 

Four’s grin returned full force and as nefarious as ever. “Well, you didn’t miss  _ all _ of dinner.” Four reached into her sleeve and pulled out a small, golden-brown, round object. It smelled wonderful.

 

“What is that?”

 

“A chicken nugget,” Four grinned. “I snuck a piece into my sleeve so I could bring it to ya’ I figured one wouldn’t hurt, especially if that gross-looking cube thing is working for ya’.”

 

Eight frowned. Marina had basically ordered her to stave off any food that wasn’t a ‘gross-looking cube thing’ and Marina was senior to her in virtually every capacity. Then again, Four was also senior to her in the NSS, so Eight could argue that she was following a senior’s orders and Marina wasn’t technically in the NSS and therefore not in the chain of command.

 

“Say ahhhh,” Four sang as she brought the nugget of breaded meat towards Eight’s mouth. Eight obeyed, opening wide and letting Four gently place the nugget on her tongue.

 

It was still warm and the outside of the nugget had such a wonderful taste and texture to it that excited all the tastebuds that had been dulled by the nutrition cube. She let it rest there for a moment and then bit into it. The juicy meat detonated into explosions of flavour and Eight moaned in oral ecstasy as she slowly chewed and savoured Four’s sneaky little gift.

 

Four rubbed Eight’s back. “I’m glad you like it. Just don’t tell Pearl or Marina, okay? They might not invite me back.” She winked and Eight found herself winking back.

 

For the first time in a long time, Eight felt that familiar sense of strong camaraderie, one of the few things she missed from her soldiering days. It might not have had the freedom of her current lifestyle but everyone in her splatoon trusted each other and had each other’s backs, through thick and thin. Through the worst they endured, they supported each other and nobody was without a shoulder to cry on if it was needed. She now felt that she had that with Four. They might not have been in combat together yet but she still felt she could come to trust her as such a deep level.

 

Eight extended the nutrition cube towards Four. “Would you like to try it?” Four grimaced and alternated between looking at Eight and the cube.

 

“I guess I am kinda’ curious but I also know it’s not gonna taste good.”

 

“Just a little bite is all you need. Say ahh.” Four grunted and slowly opened her mouth as Eight extended her tentacle and pressed the cube against her beak. Four bit down and nipped the corner off the cube.

 

Eight had to clamp her jaw shut to stop from laughing at the face Four was making as the cube met her taste buds- Met them and seemed to send them running for the hills. Her mantle flashed between putrid browns, greens, and greys before she finally swallowed.

 

“Blegh, yuck, gross! How can you eat those things?”

 

Eight physically shuddered trying to hold the laugh in but she allowed herself to giggle. “Well, if they’re what you grow up on, you don’t know any better.”

 

“Ugh, it’s like eating slush that’s been on the road all day.” She stood up and wiped her mouth with the back of her arm. “I’m gonna’ have to get some pop on my way home to put some taste back in my mouth.”

 

“You’re leaving?”

 

“Yeah, with Three on leave to recover for a week I guess it’s on me to do patrols and stuff. Plus, I’ve gotta get used to taking orders from Captain Cuttlefish now instead of Marie. She and Callie have a concert tour they need to start getting ready for. It’ll be the first one they’ve done together in almost a year. There’s a lot of hype for it. I think they even have a few events with Off the Hook too.”

 

“Really? In the same concert?”

 

“Yeah, sounds great, right? So, what’ll you be doing?”

 

Eight sighed. “I suppose once I am all better I will be focused on training for my job.”

 

Four frowned. “Your job?”

 

“Yes, Pearl and Marina want to hire me as their live-in housekeeper. Since they are so busy it is difficult for them to keep their condo clean and run general errands. That will be my job. They said I was ideal since I’m already someone they trust.”

 

“Yeah, that makes sense. Especially for really public personalities like them. It’s a lot of responsibility but it sounds like a good job.”

 

“Yes, I am eager to earn my keep. It will feel good to be able to stand on my own feet.”

 

“I bet. Well, wish me luck,” she gave Eight a two-fingered salute and headed to the door.

 

“You don’t need luck, Four, but I wish for you to have it anyway.”

 

“Thanks. I hope your tummy’s flat by tomorrow morning. G’night, Eight.”

 

“Good night, Four.”

 

Agent 4 left the room and shut the door behind her. Eight when bowed her head and made a silent prayer for the success of Four’s mission and her safety.

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Crickets chirped, somewhere an owl hooted, and a fire crackled in a small clearing in the Ikayama Woods, a three-hour drive from Inkopolis. The small column of smoke billowed up towards the starry sky, not a single cloud to blot out their twinkling glimmers in the dark blue canvas above. Huddled together under a warm blanket, two inklings held out sharp sticks with weenies on the ends, turning them slowly to roast them over the fire.

 

“I missed this,” Callie sighed as she nuzzled her companion. “It’s been so long since we’ve done anything together.”

 

Marie nuzzled back with equal affection. “I’ve missed it too. It feels good to get away from the rush of celebrity life and enjoy some camping in the woods alone. Just like when we were kids.”

 

“Gramps would say we’re still kids.” Callie pulled in her stick and took a bite out of her wiener. “Mmm, just right.”

 

“Well, next year we’ll be twenty, so we’ll be one year closer to not being kids anymore. I just hope we’ll get to spend more time together. At least we’ll be performing together again.”

 

“And once this TV show role is over and done with, that’s all I’ll have to focus on.”

 

Callie gobbled up the rest of the wiener and put down her stick. She lifted the bottom of her shirt and pushed down her shorts just a bit, revealing a blue-hued patch of skin.

 

“Is it any better?” Marie asked softly.

 

“Yeah, it’s not as tender anymore. Thank the gods and spirits that it wasn’t a permanent tattoo. Just getting this one removed hurt bad enough. It should be all better in another week or so though.”

 

“That’s good.” Marie took a bite of her own wiener and then wrapped her own tentacle around Callie’s shoulder. “The only thing I want to see on you permanently is a smile.”

 

Callie rolled her eyes and groaned. “That’s sappy, especially for you.”

 

“I can’t help it. My maternal side has been bubbling to the surface a lot lately.”

 

“So I’ve noticed.” Callie peered down between them and wriggled slightly in her seat. “Our hips didn’t use to grind together like this when we used to cuddle under the same blanket by the fire.”

 

“We didn’t have really any hips to speak of back then. Now, I’m almost constantly finding bottoms that I can’t get all the way up, but I refuse to ask for hand-me-downs from Mother.”

 

Callie laughed. “We’re gonna’ have to start raiding the octarians just to steal clothes that fit. While I was hypnotized I met some octoling mothers. Wow, they’ve got hips that make pears look like cucumbers.”

 

Marie shuddered. “I don’t want to get that big. We’re already beyond average in that department.”

 

Callie grinned. “Oh yes, those swimsuit photos are gonna need an update.” Marie made a face.

 

“Please don’t bring that up. It was hard enough for me to do it the first time. You’re lucky you’re so carefree.”

 

“Oh shut up, you liked it.” Callie gave her a playful shove. “Showing off your body like that and knowing everyone looking at those pics would be drooling over you. That totally turned you on.”

 

Marie raised an eyebrow. “And what about you and that upskirt camera shot in that softcore porn drama you were in.”

 

“It wasn’t softcore porn,” Callie said defensively. “And I didn’t know about that until later. I did it because I am an actress and I was being professional.”

 

Marie grinned. “I bet those screenshots you keep getting sent to your Zip feed would look different now.”

 

“Can we talk about something else?” Callie whined. “We’re supposed to be bonding.”

 

Marie laughed. “Alright, alright. What do you think of Agent 4?”

 

“You mean you’re new little sister?” Callie teased. “Well, she is adorable, especially when she’s around you. She follows you around like a duckling.” Callie giggled and set another wiener at the end of her stick. “She seems reliable enough, and there’s no doubt she’s a great fighter. A much more open, heart on her sleeve kinda’ girl than Three. I still think Three was an even better fighter though, even two years ago.” She laughed. “Octarians are still checking under their beds every night to make sure no Agent 3’s come out.”

 

Callie’s voice drifted off and her eyes went skyward, staring at the twinkling night with an wistfully. Marie leaned her head on Callie’s shoulder, guessing what she was thinking.

 

“You’re worried about the octarians, aren’t you?”

 

Callie sighed. “I know they hypnotized me and I know they had to be stopped, but a lot of that was Octavio’s doing, the stupid worm bag. Even under hypnosis, I didn’t like him.”

 

“But?”

 

“But there were a lot of good people too, and even the bad ones just wanted to save their people. Other than the Eden domes, they’re all falling apart and a lot of them are dying.”

 

“Partly because Octavio kept using their precious resources for his army instead of repairing the domes.”

 

“I know, but even all the resources he used wouldn’t have been enough. Besides, all those octarians need to feel like they’re doing something to make things better. If things don’t improve, they’ll only keep attacking us. When will it stop?”

 

Marie wrapped an arm around Callie and pulled her in tightly. “When it stops being about Inklings vs. Octarians. It’s already happening with all the immigration to Inkopolis and they’re all being accepted.”

 

“But the males are all still back in the domes. Will the ones who were freed by the Inkantation still be happy that way?”

 

“That’s up to them, Callie, not us. They have to be free to choose.” She sighed and pressed her cheek against Callie’s. “This is about someone in particular, isn’t it?”

 

Callie frowned. “It’s actually a few. Before the final showdown, Octavio made sure I always had an entourage. Their job was to make sure my orders were carried out and to make sure I was protected and looked after. It was basically a whole splatoon dedicated to me. By the time you and Four came, those girls practically became the only family I knew.”

 

“I see. I’m sorry Callie, I didn’t realize you were dealing with all that.”

 

“It’s not your fault. I wasn’t aware of it myself until recently after the rest of the effects wore off. Even then, I tried to forget, but being here, with you, it made me remember and think about all the people important to me. They really cared for me, Marie. I can’t just forget about them.”

 

Marie nodded and gently kissed Callie on the cheek. “Don’t worry, Callie, I’m sure we can think of something.” She opened a plastic bag near her feet and stuck a marshmallow at the end of her stick. “Besides, one of those girls might be my future cousin-in-law. If their males won’t come they’ll have to share some of ours.”

 

Callie laughed. “Boy, wouldn’t that make the tabloids happy. ‘Callie takes the Oath of the White Lily with century-old enemy of inkling kind.”

 

Marie laughed too. “If that’s the worst the tabloids can come up with, I think you’ll be fine. You just need to find a guy who can stand having an octoling as a wife. That aside, I don’t think any octolings even know what the White Lily is yet, not even Marina, and she’s been here the longest.”

 

“It’ll happen,” Callie assured her. “Actually, Agent 8 might find out before the others. She and Three have some kind of bond between them. Not really sure what it is but if they get close, that means she’ll learn about Three and that means it’ll come up sooner or later.”

 

“I don’t think even Four knows about that,” Marie said. “Well, I hope it isn’t a shock for Eight.”

 

“The girl’s tough, I’m sure she’ll handle it. Oh, and Marie, your marshmallow’s on fire.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When soldiers come home/retire, etc, one thing they always miss, they say, is the camaraderie, and the feeling of being able to trust other people with their lives. Learned this during a TED talk and that helped with some of the contents and themes of this chapter. Hope you enjoyed it.


	5. The Challenges we give Ourselves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eight's first day on the job and Three experiences some challenges of her own.

Mornings in Pearl and Marina’s penthouse always came early. Eight didn’t mind. Waking up early was normal for her and the large balcony provided a spectacular view of the sunrise coming up over the ocean. It was one of Eight’s favourite parts of every day. She wondered if Three could see the sunrise from where she lived, or if Four’s mission had gone so long that she was watching it now before she went to sleep.

 

Eight munched on a freshly toasted bagel, dressed with butter and a light sprinkling of cinnamon. Her bedtime clothes consisted of a loose grey shirt and black shorts. Modest compared to what Marina was wearing this morning, however: a draped black top that didn’t even cover her entire chest area and a matching skirt that was just barely long enough to do the job. It didn’t bother Eight but it seemed to make Pearl uncomfortable.

 

Pearl, had arrived last to the breakfast table, dressed in a lovely white nightgown, an article of clothing Eight had been completely unaware of until her first morning with her new hosts. It went down to her knees and was made of a very light material that kept Pearl cool. Despite how loosely it hung on Pearl’s small body, the inkling insisted it was very comfortable and she had worn such nightgowns ever since she was a child, albeit not every night. 

 

Marina already had Pearl’s breakfast ready and Pearl mumbled a thank you before digging in. When she had finally finished breakfast and downed her morning coffee, she, at last, spoke to Eight.

 

“Feeling better?”

 

Eight nodded and patted her stomach, once again nice and flat. “It’s a mistake I hope not to repeat.”

 

Pearl chuckled. “You’ll make worse mistakes, right Marina?”

 

“Pearlie, that’s too heavy this early in the morning.”

 

“That’s why I’m trying to lighten up the mood. Sheesh, tough crowd.” Pearl really was a very different creature before and after that first cup of coffee.

 

“Is there anything you’d like me to do today?” Eight asked hopefully. Pearl smiled at her.

 

“Yeah, actually. You’ll be coming with us to the studio. We’re going to be a little short-handed so we’ll need you to do some grunt work for the morning. In the afternoon, we might need you to run a couple of errands. Wear one of our shirts and some good shorts and that should be good enough. Am I missing anything, Marina?”

 

“She’ll need one of our hats. If you don’t have one already, Eight, we have some merch in the hallway closet.”

 

“Like, a uniform?”

 

Pearl shrugged. “Kinda. Don’t sweat the deets, leave those to us right now. Oh, and Eight, after you’re done that, you’ll be calling the cab today.” Pearl grinned but Eight’s stomach suddenly didn’t feel so good again. She had never called for a cab before. Even using phones to talk to people was an odd experience. What was she supposed to say? How did calling a cab work?

 

Marina guessed what was going through her head and put her hands on her shoulders. “Don’t worry,” she whispered in Octese. “It’ll be baby steps, little sister, baby steps.” Eight still felt nervous but she managed to give Marina a smile. Hearing the octoling she admired most in the world call her ‘little sister’ made her hearts swell nearly to bursting and she knew that it would all be okay.

  
  


\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Calling a cab, as it turned out, was a fairly simple affair. The rest of the day was a bit more complicated.

 

Eight spent the morning doing odd jobs behind the scenes as Pearl and Marina hosted Inkopolis News. Delivering papers, coffee, and snacks not just to the two of them but the entire broadcast crew gave her quite a workout. 

 

It was during one of her short breaks that she found herself staring at some of the live Turf War matches being broadcasted. On one monitor, she thought she saw a familiar looking Inkling. It was hard to tell at first because her ink had changed to purple for the purposes of the match, but the way she moved, the way she shot, the flamboyance she put into her jumps and attacks, it could only have been Three.

 

Three was in a tower control match and her team had spent the first few moments laying down ink instead of driving straight for the tower. The opposing Green team, (ironic considering Three’s natural colour), had expected a fight for the tower straight away and seemed bewildered when their enemy didn’t come. As a result, their initial strategy fell apart as they advanced with the tower, out of position when Three’s team did attack.

 

Three was the first one to strike, in a way eerily reminiscent of a shark. She swam unnoticed through friendly ink towards the other team’s left flank, one they ignored as they focused on the purple ink directly in their line of travel and Three’s teammates in front of them.

 

Three splatted the Green team’s leftmost player before he even knew what happened, popping out of the nearby ink and hitting him at close range where she couldn’t miss and he couldn’t react in time. From there, she advanced quickly and lept onto the tower itself, taking out its occupant and then jumping off rather than staying to claim it. The momentum now in her team’s favour, they pushed back the other two members, splatting one of them along the way, and only then claimed the tower for themselves.

 

Three herself took possession of the tower, something Eight didn’t think suited her. Three was at her best on the move, coming in where one didn’t expect and going for a quick knockout blow. Staying on the tower meant she basically had to stand still and the other team always knew where she was.

 

The Green team didn’t rush in piecemeal like all too many random teams. Instead, they formed up and took defensive positions in pre-planned locations with overlapping fields of fire. Purple team’s roller worked hard to ink as much turf purple as possible while the charger on their team stayed behind the tower and searched for the Green team.

 

The tower advanced and Green team’s splatling tossed a splat bomb directly towards the tower in a high arc, even as the rest of the team burst from hiding. Green’s slosher took out Purple’s dualies player even as the splat bomb reached the top of its arc.

 

Three jumped upwards and then just a little kick off the tower itself, launching her forwards into the path of the splat bomb. She twisted in midair and kicked the splat bomb away from the tower, deflecting it to the right, before she managed to land back on the tower itself.

 

Purple’s roller fared better than their dualies. He seemed to have expected an ambush from the start and so when he found himself facing both the enemy aerospray and splatling, he didn’t panic. He tossed a splat bomb between then two to split them up and then managed to take out the aerospray before the splatling took him out. The splatling had no time to celebrate, however, as Purple’s charger had not been idle. Despite having to change position, he aimed quickly and managed to take out the splatling in a single well-aimed shot.

 

Meanwhile, Green’s slosher and splattershot moved up on Purple’s right flank. The slosher went straight for Three while the splattershot tossed a splat bomb ahead before vanishing into the ink left by the slosher. 

 

“That girl’s goin’ down,” someone to Eight’s right muttered. Eight silently pleaded for Three to prove them wrong.

 

Eight expected Three to simply abandon the tower, there was no reason to take the damage if it could be avoided, especially with only one team member there to back her up, and the tower itself was actually an obstacle to the charger as he was forced to shift positions to get a better angle. In the meantime, Three was on her own and already under pressure.

 

The splat bomb landed on the edge of the tower and bounced once before it burst, showering it with green ink. Three had taken cover behind the tower’s central spine, emerging the instant the bust happened, already shooting the tower floor with her own splattershot to retain full control of the tower.

 

Eight knew what the slosher was planning before he did it. Apparently, so did Three. He jumped towards the tower, his large slosher ready, but Three was already shooting ahead of him and he ended up unwittingly jumping into her ink and he was splatted in midair before he had a chance to slosh.

 

There was another splat as the Green splattershot took out Purple’s charger. By now, the others who had already been splatted were superjumping back to the tower. Two of Three’s teammates landed on the tower itself. Much to Eight’s surprise, they jumped off but Three remained again.

 

Green team’s respawned aerospray and splatling attacked from the front. The splatling got a lucky shot on the, once again, unfortunate dualies of Purple team and managed to get behind cover before Purple’s roller could take him out. As Eight watched she suddenly remembered that Green’s splattershot was unaccounted for, and that’s when she saw her.

 

To her surprise, the splattershot was another octoling, her back two tentacles tied together. She came in from behind, in the direction of Purple team’s own spawn, where she hadn’t been anticipated.

 

Eight’s breath stopped and everything seemed to go in slow motion as she watched the octoling leap up to the tower as it dropped down an incline. After so many life and death fights, would Agent 3, the inkling that haunted the nightmares of every octarian soldier, get splatted by a random octoling in a mere turf war match? A game? Did that octoling even know that the inkling stubbornly defending the tower was Agent 3?

 

Three, as it turned out, was more aware than the splattershot octoling had anticipated but she had been so occupied supporting her time at the front that she wasn’t able to properly position herself to counter the splattershot attacking her from behind. That meant, the octoling would get the first shot.

 

Eight’s throat tightened as she saw Three’s expression change at the sight of her approaching opponent. The octoling had a joyous smile as she pulled the trigger. It was clear then, she had no idea whom she was attacking and seemed assured of victory. Eight suddenly didn’t know who to root for.

 

The octoling started firing before her feet touched down on the tower. The first shot glanced off Three’s mantle, streaking the purple with green. Three bent at the knees, lowering her stance considerably to duck under the next shot while the third hit her almost square in the face, enough to make her head jerk backwards, but the rest of Three’s body kept moving as intended. When she shifted her weight forward and brought up her left hand, palm towards her opponent, Eight knew what was about to happen.

 

The green octoling’s eyes went wide as Three executed a perfect palm strike to her torso with all her weight behind it. The splattershot octoling was sent flying backwards off the tower and landed roughly on the ground, stunned. She hadn’t even had time to come to terms with what had happened before Three lifted her own splattershot and splatted her.

 

There were gasps in the room. Some of awe, some of shock, some of dismay. There was a loud whistle and the tower stopped moving. The word “Foul” flashed across the screen and Eight saw Three’s shoulders sag.

 

Before Eight had entered her first turf war match, she had been required to take a written test, which included memorizing all the rules of every turf war game type and especially the player conduct rules. One of those rules was that deliberate physical attacks that did not involve sanctioned weapons, specials, etc., were forbidden, and Three would, of course, know that.

 

Eight watched with a heavy heart as Three superjumped back to the Purple spawn, her penalty. The tower began moving again and the match resumed but Three would have to run and swim all the way back to the tower and her team would be without what was undoubtedly their best player for almost thirty seconds.

 

Eight turned away from the screen. It was time to get back to work and she didn’t feel like watching the rest of that match.

 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

“Wow, that was a tough one. I didn’t think we were gonna manage it before time ran out.” Purple team’s charger returned to his natural sky-blue colouration and balanced his weapon on his shoulder. He was still panting a little from the effort of the match but his elation more than compensated.

 

“I know, right!” The delighted Purple roller agreed. “I didn’t expect such a tense match with randos.”

 

“It would have been easier if  _ someone _ hadn’t gotten our team a foul in the middle of the match.” The Purple dualies spun her weapons around by her thumbs and glared at Three’s back. She pretended not to notice.

 

“Hey, it was an accident. This kinda thing happens,” Roller insisted. “If she’d done it on purpose, she’d have been ejected. From the way that girl fought in the rest of the match, it’s pretty obvious she didn’t get hurt.”

 

“It still makes us look bad,” Dualies grumbled.

 

“You didn’t need any help from her,” Charger carped. “Stats show you got splatted almost fifteen times that match and you only got one splat yourself. She didn’t get splatted even once.”

 

“Stats don’t tell the whole story,” Dualies shot back. “I played a lot of interference.”

 

“Whatev-.” Charger’s reply was cut off as Three faced her team and bowed, her mantle dark blue with large splotches of white.

 

“Hey, come on, you don’t have to apologize that hard,” Roller said anxiously.

 

“Y-yeah.” Dualies scratched her cheek and looked awkwardly away. “Just, try not to let it happen again, okay?”

 

Three straightened back up and then slowly turned and began to walk away, heading around towards the opposite end of the arena.

 

“Weird woomy.” Dualies muttered.

 

“At least it’s pretty obvious that was an accident,” Roller said. “I wonder where she’s going. Also, would you care for a date?”

 

Dualies snorted. “I’d rather go on a date with her than with you.”

 

Roller shrugged. “Okay but what about after that?”

 

Three didn’t hear the rest of that conversation. She was too preoccupied with her own mind and already running away from the Purple team gate towards the other side of the arena.

 

She had messed up, and on a televised match no less. How could she have been so arrogant? Remaining on the tower to defend it had been a personal challenge and nobody on her team had been opposed to it, but it was not her usual method of operating. She preferred the freedom to move and take the initiative while robbing the enemy of their own. That arrogance had nearly gotten her splatted and it had caused her to break the sacred rules of the turf war.

 

She had all but forgotten about Green’s splattershot, assumed she had gone around to the other side to flank Roller and Dualies, but instead, she had gone for the tower itself, and it had nearly worked. She had been so preoccupied with what was happening in front of her that she had allowed her spatial and situational awareness to lapse. She hadn’t even been aware of the octoling until just before she jumped. Actually, she hadn’t even realized she was an octoling until then either. Once she realized that, something in her mind clicked and it stopped being turf war.

 

No, maybe that wasn’t quite true. Had an inkling pulled the same move, she might have done the same purely out of instinct. In the end, though, it didn’t matter. Three had tried to duck out of the way while also changing her stance to execute a palm strike against the octoling’s torso, and she had succeeded, despite the shot to the face. It wasn’t until after she sent the splattershot back to her spawn that she realized what she had done. 

 

They had still won the match in the end, but Three couldn’t feel elated about it. Three had abandoned her personal challenge at that point and focused instead on doing her best to redeem herself and offset the shame she had brought to her teammates. She still had her own shame to deal with, however, and that would not wash off so quickly.

 

Three found the Green team just leaving their gate to the arena. They were talking amongst themselves and congratulating each other on a hard fought match. Their conversation died out as they saw Three approach. They eyed her warily at first but the mantles of the inkling team members remained neutral and unthreatening.

 

Three stopped two meters away from the yellow octoling, who was looking nervously left and right, wondering what was or what was about to happen. Then, Three bent forward at an almost ninety-degree angle, mantle flashing between white and dark blue.

 

After several moments of silence and the octoling looking more puzzled than ever, the Green team’s slosher smiled and explained.

 

“She’s apologizing to you for what she did.”

 

“O-oh,” The octoling looked embarrassed. “Well, um, I-.”

 

“Get away from her!” The shout startled all of them and a dark orange boy ran up and put himself between Three and the inkling, glaring at her with angry brown eyes.

 

“Leave her alone. Haven’t you done enough?”

 

“Hey, she was just apologizing,” the Green aerospray said in an irked tone.

 

“Yeah, her display was pretty obvious,” the Green splatling agreed.

 

“That apology doesn’t mean anything,” the boy spat, and he grabbed the octoling girl’s hand firmly. “We’re supposed to make her feel welcome and accepted, and then you hit her? You expect me to believe that the only foul in the whole game was against octoling and it was just an accident? It’s no coincidence; I don’t believe it!”

 

The octoling’s lips flapped without sound as she struggled to speak. “G-Garen, please-.”

 

“No,” he insisted. “You deserve better than this.” Then he glared at Three again.

 

“You have no idea what she’s been through, the kind of life she was forced to live before she came here. If you ever touch her again, I’ll break that splattershot over your own head.”

 

Without another word, he pulled the octoling away, leaving the rest dazed and confused, except for Three, who understood all too well, probably better than “Garen” did.

 

“Hey,” Slosher said gently, “don’t worry about it, we know the apology was genuine. I’m sure it really was just a coincidence that she was an octoling.”

 

“Yeah, with the rest of us, you just splatted us before we got close enough to hit.” Aerospray chuckled nervously, suddenly not sure if those words had come out of his mouth as intended.

 

Three bowed again and flashed one more apology before turning around and heading away. The remnants of team Green were left bewildered and felt sorry for the unfortunate inkling who, despite being the one to physically attack the octoling, seemed to have come off more hurt.

 

Three decided she would abandon her plans for more turf matches today. Even though it was her week off she decided she would go see Captain Cuttlefish. Perhaps he had a mission for her. That would be nice. After all, then it wouldn’t matter who else got hurt or how she did the hurting. Life and death battle was just so much simpler.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Drama! This was my first time writing a Turf battle. I hope it was entertaining enough. It's not what I typically like to focus on for Splatoon stories.


	6. Appearances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eight returns from her first solo shopping excursion and Three, in her attempt to get away from the dark thoughts plaguing her, ends up with a group of strangers.

After arguably the most hectic morning of Eight’s surface life so far, she enjoyed a brief lunch with Pearl and Marina before being sent on her first errand. She left just as the afternoon broadcast team took over and some other unfortunate soul assumed Eight’s duties.

 

Shopping wasn’t unusual for Eight. The first thing Pearl and Marina did after they got her settled in their condo was to take her out clothes shopping. The metro had provided an introduction to the concept of currency, making Marina’s explanation an easy one to follow.  After several subsequent shopping trips, Eight felt confident, in spite of this being her first solo shopping excursion. The only real impediment was that she wasn’t sure what some of these items were, or where they could be found.

 

Eight stared at the shopping list as she walked through the district Marina had recommended reading items like Rosesquid’s mantle gloss, and striped strawberry cookies. She had no idea what mantle gloss was but most products seemed to be well labelled so she didn’t think it would be hard to find it once she knew where to look but how would she do that if she didn’t even know what it was? She was about to ask the gods themselves for help but it seemed like they anticipated her request as she spotted Four emerging from a nearby convenience store. She wasted no time in hurrying over.

 

“Hey, Eight!” Four waved as she saw her approaching. “I think this is the first time I’ve seen you wear a hat.”

 

“I had to for work this morning,” Eight explained. “Many others at the studio were also wearing them so I assume it’s a part of the uniform.”

 

“Right, and how was that? This was sorta’ your first day with a job, right?”

 

“It was busy.” Her smile faded as she recalled Three’s match earlier. Seeing the coolest squid she knew and respected deflate with so much regret still ached. Four frowned and tilted her head.

 

“What’s wrong?” Eight opened her mouth to explain but then she remembered her job and decided that needed doing first. She didn’t want to mess up her first errand.

 

“I promise I’ll tell you some other time. Right now I need to finish these errands.” She showed Four the list. “But I don’t know what some of these things are or where to find them.”

 

Four shrugged. “Well, I’ve got a Salmon Run shift soon but I can spare a little bit of time. Enough to point you in the right direction at least.” Eight handed her the list and Four hemmed and hawed as she went through the items.

 

“It looks like you should be able to find most of this stuff at Trade Oasis,” she pointed to the largest building in view. “It’s a department store so they should have most of what you’re looking for, but this-,” she tapped the paper next to the mantle gloss. “That’s something only a specialty store would have.” She pointed up the street. “I think there’s a cosmetics store up that way but I don’t remember what it’s called. Sorry.”

 

“Cosmetics?”

 

“Yeah. You know, like makeup and stuff. Stuff that makes you look pretty.”

 

Eight scratched her head. “Like, jewelry?”

 

“No, I mean… uh… you were just at the studio, right? You must have noticed that Pearl and Marina looked a bit different than they did when they woke up this morning. Like maybe their faces were brighter?”

 

Eight nodded slowly. “I suppose so?”

 

“Well, it’s because of makeup. Helps their faces pop out more on screen or somethin’.”

 

“Do you wear mantle gloss?”

 

“Only on special occasions. I’m not the kind of girl who focuses much on her appearance. I’d probably wear some on a date but, like I said before, I’m too busy having fun and livin’ to worry about dating and stuff.”

 

Dating was something mentioned in the metro’s magazine. Eight had asked about it before and Marina had explained it was just an informal word for the process of courtship. While Eight was familiar with the concept of courtship, the practice itself was foreign to her.

 

After answering a few more questions, the two parted. Four hurrying towards the square while Eight headed almost directly away from it, not sure of what she would encounter but at least knowing she was heading in the right direction.

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Eight left the shopping district heavily laden with purchases and a troubled mind. She had accomplished her mission, everything on the list had been purchased, but purchasing Pearl’s mantle gloss had proven to be a lesson in just how little she understood not just inkling culture, but surface culture as a whole. By the time she arrived back at the studio, Pearl and Marina were in the midst of the wrap-up for the day’s events.

 

“And we have this physical attack foul from a match earlier today,” Pearl said, which immediately grabbed Eight’s attention. Was it Three’s match?

 

The monitor showed a replay of the footage and Eight was forced, again, to watch Three’s well executed physical strike against the octoling’s torso, the explosive exhale, and then her landing hard on the ground, sliding down to the bottom of the incline. The clip then kept rolling and showing her getting splatted by Three’s perfect aim with her splattershot.

 

“Pretty nasty, hey Marina? Totally not a cool move to pull, even if you’re backed into a corner. She should have just abandoned the tower.”

 

“I’m sure she didn’t mean too,” Marina said. “Looks like it was a reflex action. She got spooked by that surprise attack and it looks like her body moved before her brain had a chance to react.”

 

“Well, if you ask me, if her reflex action is something like that, she should probably hold off on turf wars for a while and cool off somewhere.”

 

“We did get a zip from someone on the other team that she came to apologize. It’s nice to see that she’s actually a good sport, despite what happened.”

 

“Shows you can’t judge everyone just by what happens during the match.”

 

“That’s right. Emotions and adrenaline are all running high. Nobody acts the same during a turf battle.”

 

Nodding Pearl flashed a two-fingered salute at the camera. “Well, that’s all the time we have today everyone. Remember, don’t get cooked, stay off the hook!” The two idols posed and then the cameras turned off as the broadcast finally ended.

 

Pearl wasted no time in hurrying off the set and grabbing a drink of water. “Ugh, I thought my throat was gonna turn to dust. So damn dry today.”

 

“Well, last time you were complaining that it was too hot so they turned up the A/C,” Marina told her. “You can’t have everything, Pearlie.”

 

“Well I’m rich enough that I can get pretty damn close,” she grumbled. “At least enough to get good A/C. Besides that, your outfit isn’t nearly as warm as mine is.”

 

Marina didn’t reply to that. It was probably another one of their old arguments. She saw Eight and gestured for her to go into the dressing room. Eight did as told and waited for them to come in. She wondered if they knew Three was the one they had been talking about.

 

“So, how’d it go, Eight?” Pearl asked as she sat down in front of the vanity mirror. “Not too much trouble?”

 

Eight reached into the large plastic bag and held out the mantle gloss. Pearl took it and examined the tin for a moment. When she smiled, Eight finally let out the breath she’d been holding.

 

“See, Marina? Eight handled it no problem.” 

 

Marina raised her eyebrow at Pearl and then looked at Eight, frowning when she saw her expression. “Eight, what happened?”

 

“Oh, well… retrieving the gloss wasn’t a problem but… well, I almost caused problems.”

 

Pearl frowned. “How so?”

 

“Well, I went to the only shop in the district that had the gloss the list said you wanted. Everyone standing outside the shop gave me odd looks when I went inside and when I talked to the clerks, they asked me if I might be the victim of some prank.” There hadn’t just been inklings either. There had been lobsters, crabs and other species too.

 

Pearl snorted, her mantle turning a medium red. “Why? Because you don’t look like you’ve got a silver spike shoved up your ass or because you decided to wear something you actually wanted instead of something that fits their ‘dress code?’” Pearl air-quoted that last part and then began angrily stripping out of her outfit as if it were part of her point.

 

“Oh, that’s all it was?”

 

Pearl stared at her, aghast. “All it was? Before you looked like you wanted to hide in a closet, now suddenly it’s no big deal?”

 

“But now I understand what I did wrong. It would explain some of the things I saw. Even the employees were dressed rather elegantly. They did seem to understand once I convinced them I was shopping for you though.”

 

Marina grinned but Pearl scowled. “Uptight slags. Just so you know, Eight, those are the kind of people that talk behind your back. You don’t have to be anything you don’t want to be.”

 

“But I wasn’t going there as myself,” Eight pointed out. “I was going there in place of you, as your housekeeper, errand-girl… and all that. One of the employees there even told me that as someone in your employ, what I did and how I looked reflected back on you. That means that any offence I make becomes one you make.”

 

Pearl snorted. “Don’t worry about it. If you were that bad we would never have taken you in and hired you. We trust you, Eight.”

 

“And I am trying to respect that trust. I’ve seen plenty of inklings in uniforms. It seems quite normal to have a dress code when you have a job. You even told me to wear this outfit for working in the studio this morning.”

 

“That’s different. You don’t work at that store, Eight, you were a paying customer, someone who should be treated with respect no matter what you’re wearing.”

 

“I wasn’t disrespected,” Eight insisted. 

 

“They were treating you like you weren’t supposed to be there just because you weren’t dressed like you had money to burn. I don’t see why people shouldn’t be allowed into a shop just because they can’t afford to buy designer cosmetics. You can wear whatever you want, Eight; you don’t need to broadcast the fact that you’re working for us.”

 

“I see. In that case, I suppose I’ll wear my Squid Sisters t-shirt next time I need to run an errand for you.” Pearl jerked and Marina bent over laughing. Pearl glared at Eight but the latter couldn’t wipe the smug grin off her face.

 

“So much for trust,” Pearl grumbled.

 

Marina managed to catch her breath and wiped a tear from her eye. “Catches on quick though, doesn’t she? Called you out on your hypocrisy, Pearlie.”

 

“It’s not hypocrisy,” Pearl puffed. “I just don’t think you should have to dress to someone else’s standards just to buy some damn mantle gloss.”

 

“Pearl,” Marina said in a soft, bargaining tone, “you always dress nicely when going out to eat with your family.”

 

“That’s just so I don’t get nagged to death. I didn’t force you dress up that one time you joined us.”

 

“I was your friend. I had to look presentable meeting your family.”

 

“It wouldn’t have been a big deal no matter what you wore. It was only a birthday party for Grandpa.”

 

Marina gave her a dumb look and arched an eyebrow. “Really? Are you saying I could have shown up in this-,” she gestured to her very revealing idol outfit. “-and nobody would have been offended?”

 

Pearl grinned wickedly. “Not as long as you jumped out of the birthday cake.” The octolings both gave her confused looks and she just shrugged it off. “Look, can we just drop it?”

 

“For now,” Marina agreed. “But we’ll be discussing this later.”

 

“Whatever, Mom.”

 

Eight smiled. “These two really were quite close and seemed to know each other so well despite only two years together. She wondered if she would be as close to someone in two years time. For now, these two were the closest things she had to family in her new world. She could certainly be worse off. Still, Maybe she should talk to Four about this whole thing. She could use another perspective.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

 

The sun hung low as afternoon turned into evening. Three had been travelling West through Inkopolis ever since she had left Cuttlefish Cabin.

 

She had gone there hoping for a mission to distract herself from her earlier failure but found no such luck. Apparently, he had gone out shopping or something, according to Octavio. Even so, Three wasn’t so desperate that she was willing to stand his ranting about revenge and escape so she shot at his globe prison until her tank ran dry and then left her gear in the cabin before leaving back through the grate.

 

Now, Three had little idea where she actually was. She knew she was getting near the city’s outskirts. The mountains loomed in the distance with no more tall buildings obscuring the view of their mighty faces, now cast in shadow. Around her, the buildings appeared less modern and more run down, but still colourful. Inkopolis was the city of colour after all, even in its most dilapidated neighbourhoods.

 

Three’s stomach rumbled. It was getting close to dinner time. She had sent her iya a message earlier stating that she wouldn’t be home for supper tonight. It would be far from the first time but the fact that it was typical behaviour for someone her age made a good cover. Every other time, however, she had a good reason, usually agent work; this time, she was just wandering aimlessly, looking for a distraction.

 

“Hey, girl!”

 

Three stopped and turned her head to the right. A group of inklings stood beside a row of cars in an otherwise empty parking lot. They all appeared to be in their late teens or early twenties. One of them, a blue male, waved at her.

 

“Hey, you look down,” he said. “Why don’t you come for a ride and we’ll show you a good time?” By “we” he meant him of course.

 

Three frowned and looked at the group. They did seem like the rebellious type and her parents had told her from a young age not to go anywhere with strangers. Then again, they didn’t seem like a bad sort and she was a big girl now and an agent on top of that. Besides, maybe some shameless pickup lines and showing off would help her forget her issues today.

 

Three met the eyes of the only female in the group, hot pink eyes, mantle, and her car matched. She smiled at Three and shrugged. Sighing, Three wandered over to them, hoping she wasn’t going to regret it.

 

Three regretted it almost immediately. She now understood why some people referred to the handle above the passenger door in a car as the “oh squit! handle.” She grasped it with white knuckles as the blue boy tore down the road in a way that seemed to defy the laws of physics. Behind them, the rest of the group kept pace, following along as if on rails.

 

“Hey, don’t look so worried,” her driver grinned. “I haven’t wiped out on this road in a long time.” That didn’t make Three feel much better about her predicament, especially since she now had a better idea of just who these people were.

 

Murl, as the boy called himself, and the rest were obviously street racers. Every inkling her age knew about them, they had existed since before cars were even mainstream. Young soldiers who would have fought alongside Captain Cuttlefish would be the ones to actually get the culture started. Unfortunately, speed limits had been invented between then and now, making many forms of it illegal, but not all. The large highways connecting the cities still lacked speed limits and since most street racing happened very late at night to avoid traffic and endangering people, Security turned a blind eye, provided the groups policed themselves adequately. Three wasn’t sure what they were currently doing qualified, even if they were mostly keeping to their own lane, but she certainly wouldn’t call it “safe.”

 

Mercifully, the road opened up and they slowed down. Up ahead appeared to be a small gathering in the parking lot of a roadside restaurant, at least a dozen other cars. They found a row of empty spaces and Three was relieved when the car finally came to a stop and turned off.

 

“See, you just got here and you’re having a great time already.” He laughed and got out. “Just one of many great times you can have with me, pretty thing.” Three resisted the impulse to groan and simply got out of the car.

 

The fresh mountain air was refreshing and helped her calm down from the excess of adrenaline in her body but the atmosphere there was anything but peaceful. Engines revved, exhaust pipes burbled and music blasted from oversized sound systems that looked more costly than the cars they inhabited.

 

Three followed their smaller group towards the thickest part of the throng. There were even more people than the number of cars would suggest, including a fair number of octolings.

 

Three tensed, not due to combat instincts this time but because she was always worried an octoling might recognize her. Thinking quickly, she changed her colour to the same dark brown as her iya and hoped that and her casual clothing would be enough. Three forced a smile on her face as just one more layer of camouflage.

 

Murl and the others in their group waved and were greeted warmly by the rest of the crowd, slapping each other on the back or hugging. Three immediately thought Four would enjoy a group like this. She didn’t know if Four was into car culture; however.

 

A large Inkyar clapped Murl on the back with enough force to knock the wind out of him. He wore a torn up leather jacket, dark green, almost black, mantle and intense eyes to match.

 

Murl gestured to her and those intense dark-green eyes met her own. She felt proud that she didn’t flinch, but the way he looked at her made her think he recognized her. Just for a second, his expression was one of stone, but Three made it a point not to even blink. Eventually, he smiled and waved at her.

 

“Welcome to your first meet up! Don’t worry if you don’t have a car of your own yet. Even spectators are part of the fun and you can learn in the meantime.” Three gave a simple nod but then he stepped closer, stopping just a meter in front of her.

 

He stood slightly taller than her, which meant that he was likely of colossus or giant squid descent; although, it was difficult to say for certain. Three didn’t avert her gaze but his eyes seemed to search through her soul.

 

“What’s your name, girlie?”

 

Three’s eyes narrowed. “Maiya.” She saw his eyes narrow and his brow furrow slightly.

 

“Just ‘Maiya, huh?”

 

“Maiya is all I need.”

 

The older inkling hummed and then shrugged. “A girl of few words I see. Well, that’s fine. Feel free to hang around.” He turned away, waving with a flick of his hand, and moved on to another small group who greeted him with cheers.

 

“You okay?” Three tore her eyes away from the Inkyar and met Murl’s smiling face. “Look, I know Gyari can be kinda intense, even when you’re used to him, but he’s actually a pretty nice guy. The worst of his reputation comes from his younger days; he’s mellowed out a lot since then.”

 

So he had a reputation then. Was he infamous somehow? If so, it was probably when she was very young, maybe even before she hatched. He looked about the same age as her father.

 

Three briefly flashed green to indicate she was alright. “Great! Come on, I’ll introduce you to some people and you’ll see their sweet rides.” He put his arm around her and gently pushed her forward. The way he did it, however, rubbed Three the wrong way. She was about to forcibly remove him when she noticed the huge scar on his arm.

 

Inklings and octolings both shared an incredible ability to heal. Given enough time and care, even entire limbs could grow back if the individual was healthy enough. For an injury to leave a nasty scar like that, it had to be something big. The disturbing thing about it was that it looked like a bite mark.

 

“So, uh, Maiya,” Murl continued. “Let me introduce you to the gang.”

 

One by one Murl introduced not only his friends but the cars they drove. The way they genuinely smiled at her eagerly talked about the cars they were so proud of made Three feel oddly welcome. It reminded her of when she first started Turf War and all the other newbies showed off their gear, fresh clothes, and talked strategy. 

How strange it felt. Even though she too was an inkling and they all lived in the same city, Three almost felt like she had entered into a whole new bewildering culture only vaguely similar to the one she’d left.

  
_ I wonder if this is what Eight felt like when she came to Inkopolis. _ She wondered how Eight was doing. Had she seen that match earlier? If so, what did she think of her now? Would she even speak to her the next time they met? Perhaps this was the strangest thing of all about today: that despite the bewildering rapid-fire introductions and this whole other culture she was experiencing, somehow her mind was drawn to a girl she barely knew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I first wrote this chapter, I originally wrote out the entirety of Eight's experience in the cosmetics shop; however, I found that it didn't really add anything for the audience and just dragged the chapter down so I cut it, adding more to Eight's conversation with Pearl and Marina instead.
> 
> Why is Three hanging out with car people all of a sudden? Well, it's based on the documentaries I've watched regarding Japanese Street racing and street drifting (and also because I started watching Initial D). Don't worry, it has a narrative purpose, you'll just have to wait and see what it is ;)


	7. The Princess and the Agent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eight talks to Four about Three's match while Three meets a princess.

Eight emerged from the grate and saw Agent 4 sitting on the veranda of Cuttlefish Cabin, swinging her legs to and fro. She appeared to be waiting for something, her mind elsewhere until Eight got halfway to her.

 

“Oh, hey, Eight. How did shopping go?” Eight just smiled and shrugged.

 

She sat on the cushion next to Four and stared off into the distance, watching birds flying high over the canyon. It reminded Eight of the last time she was here, when she had sat beside Three and been deep in her own thoughts and satisfying her own curiosity. Her cheeks warmed light blue as she remembered that scene and that Three had been awake the whole time. Why hadn’t she stopped her? Any person would have at least reacted in some way, right? Why not her?

 

“You okay?” 

 

Eight was pulled back to reality by Four’s mezzo voice. She realized she too had gotten lost in thought. What expression had she been showing? 

 

Four’s mantle changed to a serene blue and somehow managed to create the illusion of waves across its surface, as if Eight was looking up at the surface from somewhere beneath those waves. It was strangely relaxing. “Are you sure everything’s okay?”

 

Eight clenched her beak. Four’s unusually gentle voice was surprisingly potent. She didn’t think the issue with the mantle gloss was worth covering but Three’s match today was something she really wanted to get off her chest, and Four was arguably the best person she could talk about it with, even if Three was her senior.

 

Sighing, Eight leaned back on her hands and stared at the grate to Inkopolis. “While I was working in the studio with Pearl and Marina, I saw a tower match that Three was participating in.”

 

“Really?” Four’s mantle quickly switched to a bright, excited orange and seemed to pulsate with energy. “I’ve never been able to see her in action before. Sure, I’ve heard about what she’s done and what she can do, but seeing it is something else.”

 

Eight pulled out her phone. “It made the news today. It should be up on the… um…”

 

“Match replay database,” Four finished for her. “Yeah, it’ll probably be on the main page if it’s trending. I keep meaning to watch her matches but I keep putting it off.”

 

Eight had the website in her favourites list and thanks to the wifi Marie had set up for the cabin they had no problem connecting, despite their remote location. Four slid up right against Eight, her stubby tentacles resting on Eight’s shoulders, their cheeks nearly touching as the video finished buffering and the match began. She smelled of orange.

 

Eight couldn’t recall Four ever being as quiet as she was while they watched Three’s match. Her yellow eyes were totally focused on what was happening on-screen. As the moment Eight knew was coming neared, Eight ignored the screen entirely and watched Four’s face.

 

Four’s eyes seemed to cloud over and the muscles in her neck tightened. Even so, she said nothing, even as the whistle sounded and the word “Foul” flashed on the screen. They watched the rest of the match in continued silence. Eight was now also able to see how it continued. 

 

Purple’s dualies kept getting splatted constantly, useful only as a mild impediment to the Green team. The other two did better, able to hold their own pretty well, but it was obvious that Three was the source of the team’s power.

 

Three’s penalty was sufficient for Green team to retake the tower but they had it less than thirty seconds before Three took it back. Afterwards, Purple’s charger took position on the tower, leaving Three to do what she did best: flank, surprise, and destroy.

 

Once the match ended in Purple’s victory, Eight closed the video and navigated to the statistics screen. Three had gotten more than twenty splats that match, hardly a record but she hadn’t been splatted herself either.

 

Eight looked at the match stats for the Green team’s octoling splattershot. She had been splatted the fewest times of anyone on her team and achieved the second most splats of the match in return. Eight felt a certain amount of pride in that, one of her own kind doing so well in the inkling’s game.

 

Four leaned back and sighed. “So, that’s what was bothering you, huh?”

 

“Yes, a little. I know why Three did it, it was instinct and reflex. She didn’t mean anything by it. Those kinds of instincts can mean the difference between life and death in battle; I feel the same way sometimes. It’s obvious she feels bad about what she did. I even heard that she went to apologize in person.”

 

A smile finally broke through Four’s clouded expression. “Yeah, she really is amazing. You can see how good she is once she stopped camping the tower and started doing what she really does.”

 

Eight nodded, and then her eyes narrowed as she looked at Three’s match stats. “Is this her real name?” She pointed to Three’s profile which had the name “Maiya.”

 

“I don’t know,” Four admitted. “I never knew her as anything except ‘Agent 3.’”

 

“It’s another alias.”

 

Four and Eight jumped and their eyes snapped towards the grate. Callie and Marie were striding towards them, grinning, hiking packs on their backs. Eight felt her voice leave her throat and dive down into her stomach. Even after meeting them at least twice, she had yet to get over the shock she always got when they appeared. Even in casual, utilitarian clothing they were stunning.

 

“I take it you were watching Three’s match today,” Marie said.

 

“Y-yeah.” Four managed to recover from her surprise and recomposed herself. “So, how was camping?”

 

“It was fun,” Callie beamed. “Hardly any bugs and we just missed the rain.” She put down her backpack and trapped Four in a hug, wrapping her arms and long tentacles around her smaller body. Four’s mantle turned as yellow and bright as the noon-day sun. A twinge of jealousy and envy was enough to snap Eight out of her shock.

 

“You saw the match?”

 

“We get a notification every time a match with her in it gets uploaded,” Marie explained. She put down her backpack and leaned against the wall. “So, how have you been adjusting?”

 

Eight kept her head down, unable to look Marie in the eye. “I have been doing well. Pearl and Marina gave me a job and although there has been some instances of ignorance on my part, I have been getting by.”

 

“Ignorance?” Marie gave her a wry smile. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. You’re adapting pretty well considering your circumstances. I’m sure whatever you did wasn’t any worse than something an inkling might do, and Three knows what you’ve been through more than anyone else. Why don’t you tell us about it and maybe we can help.”

 

Eight was reluctant to talk about her mere mortal issues to the Squid Sisters but she also felt compelled to obey. Eight told the three inklings about the incident trying to retrieve Pearl’s mantle gloss, the things the employees at the shop said and then the discussion with Pearl and Marina about the incident later.

 

“Well, I can see how that might cause issues,” Marie mused. “I wonder if Pearl consciously realizes the reason for a dress code. Fair enough, it shouldn’t matter as much in a store like that, but they don’t just want people in there who aren’t going to buy anything either.”

 

Eight frowned. “There’s a problem with just looking?”

 

“Not by itself, but it matters if those people get in the way of the people who actually are trying to buy things. I think one of the main reasons is so that they maintain some air of exclusivity. It’s part of their image that they and their products are somewhat exclusive.”

 

“Exclusive?” Eight frowned. “As in, only for certain people?”

 

“Something like that. It’s not like they don’t like other people it’s just that it’s part of what helps set them apart and makes them stand out. It’s a selling point, and it’s part of what their customers pay for.”

 

Eight frowned and her tentacles curled inwardly as she thought. That was when Callie cut in.

 

“Eight, think of that place like the officer’s club and you went in as an NCO or lower. Even if you were going there to pick up a drink for your own officer, it’s still not a place you’re supposed to be, get it?”

 

Eight gaped even as Four looked totally befuddled. “Is that really what I did?”

 

“Well, not quite as bad as that but it’s the closest thing I could think of.” She shrugged. “So, you understand now, right?”

 

Eight nodded. “I think so, but I’ll likely have to go back there to buy more the next time Pearl runs out, won’t I?”

 

“Most likely.” Marie sighed. “Our business involves a lot of mantle gloss. It’s not as bad for Pearl since her mantle is short but she still has to use it every day so she’ll go through those tins quick.”

 

“Not as bad for us since we’re sponsored by a cosmetic company so we get our tins for free. It’s especially good for me because you don’t see as many inklings that have naturally black tentacles like I do, so it can be tough to find the right colour gloss.”

 

“I see.”

 

“But what’s she gonna’ do about the next time she goes back there?” Four asked. “She can’t just do the same thing again, right?”

 

“I would certainly like to avoid it,” Eight said. “But I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do.”

 

Callie smiled. “Easy, you just have to dress like someone who belongs there.”

 

“Or at least like you’re representing someone who belongs there,” Marie added. “Regardless of what Pearl says, you have to worry about your own reputation too. If she says you can dress how you like then that means you can dress as you should, if you so choose.”

 

“It’s important to express yourself,” Callie added. “But it’s also important to be considerate of other people. The key is always finding balance. You’d be surprised how far even a little consideration will get you or will let you get away with. Besides, refusing to dress appropriately just for the sake of self expression is just as bad as that elitist attitude I’m sure Pearl was talking about.”

 

Eight nodded, understanding. “Well after a long discussion, Pearl and Marina agreed to give me a budget to buy clothes and gear I will need to perform my duties. I suppose something like that might count.”

 

Callie and Marie’s eyes widened slightly. They looked at each other and then both grew nefarious grins on their faces. That made Eight nervous.

 

“What are you scheming?” Four asked.

 

“Not scheming,” Callie replied innocently. “We just thought of a way for Eight to get the outfit she needs to work both at home and to run errands for Pearl and Marina without the problems you had today.”

 

“We know the perfect place for you to go,” Marie said. “You’ll get good quality clothes both durable and suitable for your job. You’ll be able to go pretty much anywhere with them.”

 

“Such clothes exist?” Eight was amazed. “I always thought that fancy clothes were more fragile.”

 

“Often, but not always.” Callie rubbed Eight’s head affectionately and then spoke to her in fluent, albeit accented, Octese. “Don’t worry little sister; we’ll take care of you.”

 

Eight blushed as her hearts did backflips, unable to do anything else but nod. First Marina had called her “little sister” and now Callie. Her chest swelled with joy and tears stung the corners of her eyes as she became overwhelmed with emotion at just how fortunate and blessed she felt.

 

Callie giggled and gave her a warm hug. It felt odd having tentacles wrap around her but not at all unpleasant. She no longer had to feel envious of Four eighter; although, she supposed it was petty and silly for her to feel that way in the first place.

 

“When will you be going shopping?” Marie asked.

 

“They said they don’t have anything for me to do tomorrow other than the housework so I should probably do it then.”

 

“Perfect!” Callie gave her another squeeze. “We’re free tomorrow and we’ve just found something to do. We’ll pick you up at home and take you to the place. It might not be what you’re expecting but we promise that it’ll work.”

 

“I wouldn't ever doubt you.”

 

“And Four can come too for moral support if she likes,” Marie said.

 

“Oh, I’ll come for sure! I’ve never been to any place fancy.”

 

Other than Pearl and Marina’s apartment, Eight hadn’t either. She’d never gone out with Callie and Marie before but this was her chance and she was going to take it. Besides, if they were helping her, so much the better. The only thing she couldn’t figure out was why their grins had looked like they were up to something. Maybe facial expressions between inklings and octolings were more different than she thought.

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

If Three ever said she had never been interested in dating, she was either lying or she was too young at the time to even think about it. When she became a teenager, however, it was almost unavoidable that she would be exposed to various media covering the topic. In fact, she had once watched a show where Callie herself was giving people dating advice. So, despite never having dated herself, Three did know a thing or two about how courtship worked and was all too aware of the situation she was in right now.

 

Murl brought her from one group to the next as more and more people and cars filled the parking lot. He offered to buy her dinner as well but she politely refused. He was trying to put a sense of obligation in her. Callie herself had warned that some will try to buy you dinner or other things to make you feel indebted or at least make you feel guilty if you try to refuse to go out with them or at least give them your number.

 

“Don’t fall for it,” Callie had said. “You have no reason to feel guilty for a manipulative scumbag move like that. I’ve seen guys and girls do it and it’s not cool at all. Don’t forget that they’ll try to use pressure from others to try and make you give in. The best way to deal with that is to avoid it entirely by not accepting their ‘generosity.’ Just keep it clear that you’re not interested and try to break away without insulting them. You don’t want to leave any grudges behind. It can bite you later.”

 

Three had taken that advice to heart and was now glad she did. Just about every girl in every group they came across, except for the octolings perhaps, clued in quickly that she wasn’t interested. Despite all that, Three still couldn’t help but feel a twinge of guilt anyway. Murl did seem like a nice guy and all and he was mostly just being courteous. She started to wonder if, perhaps, he was instead trying to get her to join this community he was a part of.

 

_ What am I doing here? _ She asked herself. She had been there for over an hour.  _ I did want to forget about everything for a while, so I guess that’s worked, but I don’t want to be in this situation. _

 

“Hey!”

 

Three and Murl stopped. Three’s heart rates increased as she saw a squad of octolings running towards them, dressed in the same black synthleather uniform the soldiers wore, but without the armour. Three had to consciously resist the urge to go into a defensive stance. She couldn’t allow herself to make the same mistake twice today.

 

“Hey!” The lead one panted and pointed to Three. “Is that a limited edition Squid Sisters keychain?”

 

Three blinked and looked down at her hip where there dangled a metal keychain featuring cartoony versions of Callie and Marie hugging each other and winking. She looked back up at the wide-eyed squad of octolings and nodded slowly.

 

“That’s awesome!” They all turned to the side and showed their own Squid Sisters keychains, dangling from their own hips. “We all have our own! Do you collect them?”

 

Three thought for a moment and decided it would be best not to brush off these girls. Even if she would prefer to avoid most octolings it wasn’t wise to act anti-social in a place you had no friends. She took out her phone and swiped through a few pictures. She then showed the screen to them and they gasped. On the screen was Three’s substantial collection of Squid Sisters keychains dangling from a rack on her wall. She didn’t consciously collect them, Callie and Marie just gave them to her if they happened to be carrying one or two.

 

“So many!” Another octoling exclaimed in Octese.

 

Three’s spatial awareness, currently on high alert in the unfamiliar environment, told her that Murl had taken a step away. Turning her head she looked at him, wondering why he was so wary and found that he was looking away, holding his scarred arm tightly and his mantle displaying a mix of anger and nervousness.

 

“You’re a Squid Sisters fangirl huh?” His voice was barely audible above the noise around them.

 

Three frowned. She would always be a fan of Callie and Marie but she was their friend first and foremost and would never call herself their fangirl, not to belittle fangirls of course. She nodded anyway and he grimaced.

 

“I see. Well, you can go ahead and hang out with these girls then. I’ve got to start heading up to the mountain. The touge runs are gonna’ start soon.” And with that, he walked away, leaving her wondering what just happened.

 

The first octoling who had spoken flattened her tentacles against her head. “Did we… spoil your courtship somehow?” Three rapidly shook her head and clasped the girl’s hand in gratitude. The octoling seemed confused but shrugged it off, understanding the gratitude at least, even if not why.

 

“Please, come with us and we will talk.” 

 

Three wasn’t crazy about being alone with a bunch of octolings, any of whom might recognize her as Agent 3, but hopefully, her colour change would be enough to throw them off.

 

The first octoling introduced herself as Hani, and led her to a quartet of vehicles so dilapidated that they looked as if they were held together with spit, zip ties, and positive thinking. Three doubted they were street legal.

 

“These are our cars,” Hani said proudly. We put them together ourselves from spare parts and whatever else we could find.” They looked it, but Three wasn’t about to say that. 

 

They were obviously quite proud of their accomplishment and, in truth, she was impressed with how octolings always managed to make things work.  Taking things inklings causally threw away and fixing them up and using them, sometimes in unexpected ways was quite admirable. Unfortunately, too often, those ways had been to make war machines. Flooders had apparently been built using parts from old washing machines. Such ‘junk raids’ as Captain Cuttlefish called them, were one reason she and Four had to patrol.

 

“Nobody else here would be dedicated enough to make touge runners out of those,” a new, silky, yet indifferent sounding voice said. Three turned and saw a dark purple inkling wearing a black hoodie. She had several piercings in her hears and two rings run through the bulb of one tentacle. Unusually, the purple brightened at the tips instead of darkening.

 

“So,” She asked Hani. “Is she a fan?”

 

Hani nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, Princess, she showed us a picture of her collection of keychains. The biggest collection we’ve ever seen!”

 

The purple girl looked at Three. “Murl’s not a Squid Sisters fan. He never wants to talk about it but people think it has something to do with that scar on his arm.”

 

“Probably fought them in turf war,” One of the other octolings suggested. “They must be really good at it.”

 

They were. They always participated in celebrity turf matches that were meant to raise money for charity. People always dreaded when they were on the same team but even apart, they were potent fighters. Marie was not quite the absolute most accurate player with the charger but she was by far the most consistent, and Callie was one of the very best roller mains. Still, scars like that from a turf battle? It looked like it had been there since his childhood.

 

The purple girl shrugged, never taking her eyes off Three. “I’m Katrina, You looked like you were stuck. Murl’s not a bad guy but he can’t take a hint.” Three nodded in agreement and flashed green and blue with gratitude

 

The octolings took turns showing Three their vehicles. Apparently, they and other octolings had all worked together to get the four cars in running order and took turns driving down the touge. Katrina explained that a touge was just a winding stretch of road they used for racing. Three would have been nervous just being driven down the street in those cars, never mind racing. Octolings were no cowards, that was for sure.

 

Soon, it was the octoling’s turn to go up the mountain. Three and Katrina watched as the old rust buckets rattled away and vanished around a corner. By that time, it was completely dark and Three still hadn’t eaten.

 

“Let’s get somethin’ ta’ eat,” Katrina said. “And then you and I will talk.” Three thought that sounded ominous but she was too famished to argue. Katrina had been watching her for some time before she had made her presence known. The question was, why. 

 

Katrina brought them to the outside counter for the restaurant and Three ordered two hot dogs and two hamburgers for herself. Katrina then brought her to an RV parked towards the back of the parking lot where they clambered up the ladder at the back to sit in folding chairs on the roof. As Three dug into her meal, Katrina spoke. 

 

“Damn, girl, you must roller or brush main to eat like that.” She took a bite of her own hamburger. “But I wanted to talk to you about what happened earlier with my dad. You remember Murl introducing you to him, right?”

 

Three frowned and tried to remember. She had met a lot of potential fathers tonight with all the groups Murl had introduced her to. “Gyari?” She guessed. He had been the most memorable of them.

 

“Yeah. He thought you reminded him of someone. Any guesses as to who that might be? Know any other street racers or anyone who used to street race?” Three shook her head.

 

There was a long quiet after that, at least between the two of them. Three knew when she was being interrogated. Right now, Katrina was probably revising her strategy in her head or reevaluating if it was worth the effort.

 

Across the parking lot, engines revved, people chatted and laughed, and music, some of it Callie and Marie’s, sounded from some of the cars with all too much bass.

 

“You seem nervous around octolings,” Katrina said at last. “You one of those kids that had a grandpa that served in the war?” 

 

Captain Cuttlefish was like a grandfather to Three in many ways so it probably wouldn’t be counted as lying if she were to say yes. Such anxious behaviour wasn’t exactly typical and it would be a good cover too, so she nodded in the affirmative.

 

“I thought so. Don’t worry, these girls are harmless.” She gestured to a loose group of octolings going through the rows of cars, trucks, motorbikes and other modes of transport. They seemed totally enthralled with what they were seeing, fascinated with the machinery and the atmosphere.

 

“Not a lot of people know about just how rough they had it before they moved here. Not all of them want to do turf war, in fact, a lot of them don’t, even though they’d probably be decent at it. It’s like they want to do anything but.

 

“Hani and her group were the first ones we took into our community. We don’t exactly live in luxury either so I guess we can relate to them more. They’re the only ones that are official members, so far. They worked hard and managed to scrape enough of a living to afford running those old clunkers. It’s really exciting for everyone here because we need more people in our groups to keep the community going. Not a lot of inklings are willing to put in the work needed to mod and maintain a car.”

 

Three could certainly imagine that. Most inklings were too lazy to put in so much work, at least at her age. Katrina looked about the same age as her but judging from the way her shorts fit she had more well-endowed hips. Katrina was eyeing her as well, and Three suspected she was only talking as much as she was trying to figure something out about her.

 

Just as Three downed the last of her meal, the RV shook as someone else came up to the roof: an Inkyora who could have passed for an older version of Katrina, except she had a scarf around her neck of byzantine purple.

 

Three stood up and bowed but the Inkyora waved her back down. “Don’t protocol me, kid. It’s not my business who my daughter dates; don’t think you have to act all polite.”

 

“She’s not my date, Mom,” Katrina replied in that indifferent tone only teenagers could nail down. “But she’s obviously better brought up than the girls from our neighbourhood if that scarf is all it takes for her to give you respect.”

 

“I never asked to be made a matron,” her mother grumbled, gripping the purple scarf angrily. “But whatever. I hope you're not planning on hiding up here all night, Katrina.”

 

“No, Mom, I’m just talking to this girl. Dad was interested in her and I wanted to know why.”

 

The matron’s beak clenched, exposed as her lips curled back in a snarl. “He wasn’t making moves on her, was he? The bastard.” She looked at Three and the agent suddenly started to panic, shaking her head and flashing her mantle white in submission, doing everything she could to indicate she had no intention of intruding on her marriage.

 

“Will you calm down and relax?” Three did as ordered and Katrina’s mother leaned in close, gently cupping her face and peering deeply into her eyes. Three swallowed anxiously as she stared back into her dark purple orbs.

 

“Is this your natural colour?” She asked. Three wanted to say yes, wanted to maintain the illusion, but she knew she couldn’t. Lying to a matron like that would not only by an affront, it would be pointless. She would know she was lying. Three let her mantle return to its natural green colour and realization seemed to flash behind the matron’s eyes.

 

“I thought so,” she whispered with a gentle smile. “And your name?”

 

“Maiya.”

 

“Maiya, hm?” She rubbed Three on the head and then looked back at Katrina, her stern face back on.

 

“Katrina, if you take her home when she wants to go, I’ll let you use the car tonight.” 

 

For the first time since Three had been introduced to her, Katrina displayed an emotion other than indifference or boredom. She actually looked surprised.

 

“Seriously? Just for taking her home?”

 

“And looking after her while she’s here. You can do that, right?”

 

Katrina scowled and crossed her arms. “First Dad trying to figure her out and now you want me to babysit. What’s going on?”

 

“That’s for me to know and you to find out. Just don’t talk to him about her, understand?”

 

Katrina snorted. “Or what?”

 

“Or, I’ll spank you so hard you’ll have to cross the ocean to kiss your own ass.” She gave Katrina an icy glare. “Am I clear?” Katrina put on a brave face but her mantle flashed white just once anyway. Satisfied her message had been given and understood, she looked back at Three.

 

“I’m Silvia. Mention that name to your parents and see what happens.” With that, she jumped down from the roof and walked into the crowd.

 

Katrina huffed. “What was that all about? The heck’s gotten into her?” Three went white with apology but Katrina waved her off. “It’s not your fault; you look as clueless as me.” She sighed and stood up. “Come on, I can’t stay up here or Mom will nag me to stop being antisocial. I’ll show you around a bit. Maybe without Murl blasting your otoliths with pick up lines, you’ll actually learn something.” Three returned her mantle to brown and followed her.

 

Katrina brought her to a mixed group of octolings and inklings around a trio of small vans. They saw the two of them approach and waved.

 

“Hello, Princess.” Katrina’s eyes narrowed slightly. Three thought that was an odd thing to call Katrina, unless it was meant to get under her skin, but it didn’t seem to be from the way they said it.

 

“What’s goin’ on?” Katrina droned. One of the octolings spoke first.

 

“We’re figuring out how to turn these vans into motorhomes. It will take a lot of thinking and planning but it should be possible to turn them into small, affordable shelters, and they move too.”

 

“I still don’t like the idea of living in a van,” an inkling said. “I mean, I don’t exactly live in luxury but at least I can put stuff in my apartment.”

 

“You can by a whole van, running, for the price of a couple months rent though,” another pointed out.

 

“Yeah, but what about the cost of the mods?”

 

Three watched with interest. She could see why the octolings would be interested. A lot of them lived in makeshift shelters in alleys or on the streets because they had no money or too little to afford an apartment. Even if they pooled their resources there were legal limits regarding how many people could occupy one apartment suite and the rent wasn’t cheap in inkopolis. Making a home out of an old van could be a viable alternative for a lot of them. Callie and Marie were always on the lookout for ways to help the growing octoling population. She’d have to mention this to them.

 

Over the next couple of hours, Katrina and Three travelled among the gathering of automotive enthusiasts, each group greeted Katrina as “Princess.” Most of them were inklings but, in total, Three was sure she had met almost two-dozen octolings over the course of the night. Even in Inkopolis Square it was rare to see so many in one place at a time. It was a shame Eight wasn’t here. She could mingle with her own kind.

 

“It’s getting late,” Katrina said, looking at her phone. “Well, late for you anyway. Our gatherings usually last until at least three in the morning. Wanna’ go home?” Three nodded. She was tired and it had been a long day. Besides, she was certain Katrina didn’t want to be stuck with her as a tagalong any longer than necessary.

 

Katrina brought them back to the RV and to a dark purple coupe tucked in behind it. It was low and sleek and Three guessed it had been modified along some of the same lines as the other cars. They got inside and then Katrina drove them away, down the mountain back to Inkopolis.

 

The trip was silent other than Three telling Katrina where she lived, the latter no doubt buried in her own thoughts. Three decided it was best to leave her to them but she couldn’t help but feel some sympathy for her. Nobody liked being saddled with unwanted responsibility, least of all teenagers.

 

Finally, they arrived in Sunset Fields and Katrina parked the car. Katrina said, “I’m coming with you. I’m not gonna’ let Mom nag me when I get back for not escorting you home. Not that you need it in a neighbourhood like this.” Three nodded but not wanting to pass the short distance in yet more awkward silence decided to strike up a conversation.

 

“How often do you meet like that?”

 

“What, the car meets? There’s usually a handful every night going on drift or grip runs on the touge. Tonight was unusually big for a weekday. Friday and Saturday nights are usually the busiest. They aren’t just for racing, people bring other kinds of cars too. Sometimes it depends whether you’re a racer or just a modder when and where meetups happen.”

 

Three thought that perhaps she should tell Eight about these meetups. It would be a chance for her to meet other octolings, something she was probably craving right now. Plus, she seemed eager to soak up any new aspects of inkling culture. Finding one that appealed more to octarians than turf wars, as inconceivable as that seemed, would probably make her very happy.

 

“And anyone can go?”

 

“Sure. You don’t need a car just to come hang out and look. Why? You thinking of coming again?”

 

“Maybe. I also thought some friends might be interested.”

 

“Even though there’s a chance you’ll run into my dad?”

 

Three shrugged. “I don’t know who he is or why he might be interested in me, but he doesn’t frighten me.”

 

Katrina stared at her. “You don’t know Gyari Trailmaker?” Three shook her head, and she sighed. “That explains a lot.”

 

They reached Three’s house. All the lights were off and her parents were likely in bed. Katrina stopped at the bottom of the stairs. 

 

“I guess I’ll see you some other time if you’re gonna’ show up again.” She turned to leave but Three stopped her. She placed a hand on her chest and gave her a look that said: “wait.” Three hurried into the house and a minute later came back out with a clear plastic bag and handed it to Katrina. 

 

Katrina stared at the bag. “Cookies?”

 

Three nodded solemnly. “They were Mama’s favourite. Share them with your mom.”

 

Katrina’s jaw clenched. She stared back at the cookies for a moment and then up at Three. “Are you sure?”

 

“I don’t care who your father is; you’re not him.”

 

Katrina frowned, her expression darkening even as little pink dots appeared on her mantle. “Listen, I know you’re probably gonna’ look him up after this, and you’re gonna’ read a lot of bad things, but just so you know, he’s actually a really good dad, at least to me, and most of the time, he’s a good guy overall too.”

 

“I’m the last person to judge someone based on just a few things that they might have done,” Three said quietly, her mantle turning dark blue.

 

Katrina raised an eyebrow. “Huh, you’re the first girl I’ve met who lives this deep in Inkopolis who doesn’t come off as some self-righteous slag.” Three smiled and shrugged. Katrina shrugged back and then the two parted ways.

 

Three went upstairs, brushed her teeth and changed into her pyjamas. It was already past midnight but she decided to shoot Four a quick text. She might have Eight’s contact info. She needed to send Eight a message.

 

Four sent her a message back only a few minutes later, giving her Eight’s contact info. Three thanked her and then told her that girls her age should be in bed. Four replied that she was a hypocrite and then bid her good night. Three chuckled softly to herself and replied with a good night of her own before she saved Eight’s contact info to her phone and started to compose her message.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More subtle reveals about inkling culture. What's a matron you ask? You'll have to wait for an explanation in story ;)
> 
> This chapter is probably the chattiest Three's ever been but it does show some of the limitations of the colour language. I hope Katrina is an interesting enough character. She'll be expanded on later.
> 
> I imagine a lot of you are at this point in the story wondering where the 3x8 all went. They haven't even communicated in a while. Well, that is true but Agent Three has barriers anyone wanting to get close to her to get over and I want whatever relationship these characters get to feel earned so I want to make sure it's set up well enough. It's also important, when writing romance, for characters to think and talk about things other than any potential love interest. They have their own individual passions and desires and how those gel with the other half of the relationship is a big part of how their chemistry works. It's something I'm still learning but I hope to at least make it satisfying for you all.
> 
> Please look forward to the next chapter.


	8. Exclusivity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Callie and Marie take Eight and Four on a very special shopping trip.

When Eight woke up that morning, the last thing she expected was to have a text message from Agent 3 waiting on her phone. 

 

She hadn’t known who the message was from at first, it had just said “Unknown” and then the message began with “It’s Three,” which sent her hearts racing, and she began to read the message.

 

_ “It’s 3. Found a car meet where lots of octolings hang out. Might b nice 2 hang out there together Friday or Saturday night. U can ask Marina 2. Wear your clothes from the Metro.” _

 

Eight’s mouth slowly fell open as she read. Three was asking her to hang out? Really? It had been days since she had last seen her in person. She was worried Three might have hidden away after what happened with the turf match. This was a pleasant surprise, to say the least.

 

Eight went to her closet and found her old synthleather uniform and high-heeled boots. She hadn’t worn them once since the metro. She wondered why Three would ask her to wear clothes suited for combat to a- what was it, a car meet?

 

Eight carried her phone into the kitchen, scratching her head. Pearl was just starting to make Pancakes and Marina was making tea.

 

“Good morning, Eight.” She chirped. “Did you sleep well?”

 

“Yes.” Eight sat in her chair at the kitchen island and then looked over at Pearl. “What’s a ‘car meet?’”

 

Pearl looked at her, blindsided by the sudden question. Confused at first, she rolled her eyes up to the ceiling in thought. “Oh, that’s right. A car meet is basically where a bunch of people with modded cars go to show off. I’ve actually been to a couple. Some of those guys had some sick stereo systems. I even watched one blow the windows clear off the car. That was awesome.”

 

Marina’s head whirled around, knocking over an empty cup with her tentacles. “What? That sounds amazing! Why have you never told me about this?”

 

Pearl sighed. “It slipped my mind. I haven’t been to one in years and it was never really my scene. Not that I don’t like it, I mean, it’s cool and all, just that cars have never been my thing. Why are you asking anyway, Eight?”

 

Eight showed her phone screen to them. “Three invited me to one. She said that a lot of octolings go there too.”

 

“Really?” Pearl frowned. “Funny, Three didn’t seem the type of girl. She seemed like the responsible type.” Now it was Eight and Marina’s turn to frown. 

 

“What’s irresponsible about just meeting and showing off your car?” Marina demanded.

 

“Nothing, but a lot of the people who do that are also street racers. I mean, some street racing is okay because they do it on roads that pretty much nobody goes on at night, but a lot of them can be irresponsible and do it on busy highways.” She shuddered. “And then there’s that one guy... I mean, it was their own fault but…” she shook her head. “Never mind, that’s too much this early in the morning. Let’s just eat pancakes.”

 

Marina sighed, sounding disappointed. “Maybe ask for more information, Eight.”

 

Eight nodded. “I’m seeing Four later today; I’ll ask her first. If Three really sent this message at almost 1 AM, then she’s probably still asleep anyway.”

 

Pearl laughed. “Yeah, probably. What are you doing with Four?”

 

“She’s going to help me shop for my housework gear. Probably based on her experience working for Grizz Co.”

 

“Ah, the salmon run.” Marina nodded. “Makes sense.”

 

“It’s not like we’re making you clean up toxic sludge,” Pearl said. “But I guess it would be a good idea to have some stuff like that considering how many chemicals are in cleaning products. Speaking of which, we just have housework for you to do today. Whether you do it before or after you shop is up to you but try to get it done before we got home okay?”

 

Inwardly, Eight sighed in relief. It was true that Four was helping her shop for that gear but so were Callie and Marie and they had told her to keep their involvement a secret.

 

“Understood.”

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Marie picked Eight up in front of the condo building right at eight o’clock. That had been enough time for Eight to get some of the housework done. However, just after she had finished vacuuming the carpets, she had gotten a knock from the downstairs neighbour who yelled at her for doing such a noisy thing so early in the morning. Then the neighbour at the other end complained to him that his yelling was much louder than the vacuuming had been. Eight had just shut the door then and let them argue. When she told the other three in the car about the incident they all laughed, though, they all agreed that they probably would have all felt the same way. 

 

After joining the main road, Eight asked them what a car meet was.

 

“Uhhh, a place where cars meet?” Four tried.

 

“It’s a place where car enthusiasts gather to show off and take about cars,” Marie explained. “Callie and I used to do stints as car girls at car shows and meets like that. That was back when we were first getting started.”

 

Callie smiled. “I remember that. Some of the people there were a little rough around the edges but they were overall pretty nice. We even got to take rides down the touges in some of their cars. Wow, what a rush!”

 

“You said you were terrified,” Marie reminded her.

 

“I was but I felt really good about it after. I’d totally do it myself, but I need to pass that exam first.”

 

“Exam?” Eight asked.

 

“When you learn to drive, you have to pass a written and practical exam to get a probationary license. After another six months, you take another driving exam for a chance to earn your full license.” She grinned smugly and Callie rolled her eyes.

 

“Yes, yes, we know, you passed your first time. We’ve all heard it before. Anyway, why were you asking, Eight?”

 

“Well, Agent 3 sent me a message last night about one this weekend. She said a lot of octolings would be there and encouraged me to come hang out.”

 

“She called you?” Marie asked in surprise. Eight nodded.

 

“Dawww, our girl’s finally coming out of her shell,” Callie gushed. “You should totally go, Eight. As long as Three’s there, you’ll be fine.”

 

“She texted me at almost one in the morning for your contact info,” Four said. “Seriously, that’s the latest I’ve ever gotten a text.”

 

“And what were you doing up so late, young lady?” Callie chided.

 

“You’re not my mom,” Four said cheekily.

 

“Don’t make me come back there,” Marie said.

 

“Aww, gonna bend me over your knee?”

 

“Backwards.”

 

Eight had no idea what they were talking about but they seemed to find it amusing so she assumed it was some kind of joke. She wondered if she would ever understand inkling humour.

  
  


Marie brought them to a large shop in what had to be the wealthiest part of Inkopolis that Eight had ever seen. They passed through white gates onto a concrete drive lined with immaculately trimmed bushes beyond which was a perfectly trimmed lawn so lush and green it reminded Eight of Three’s own mantle colour.

 

They parked where the narrow drive met a broad stairway. They stepped out just as a young but a well dressed inkling boy appeared and bowed to Marie. “Madam, may I park your car for you?”

 

Marie nodded. “Thank you.” And she handed him the keys. Eight stared in bewilderment, urged onwards only by Four as she watched the boy slid into the car and drove it away.

 

At the top of the stairs, two inkyora stood, garbed in long dresses with long long sleeves, white aprons across the front, and white gloves on their hands.

 

“Madams,” they said in unison. “Please come in. We welcome you to the House of Arachne.”

 

Eight didn’t know who Arachne was but it was a very impressive house. As they entered, she saw a huge chandelier with hundreds of little crystals dangling from its many rings. The floor was made from tiles of a polished white stone that Eight had never seen before, but it was very beautiful. Not a speck of dust or a single stain soiled its immaculate surface.

 

As they crossed the centre of the atrium, an older inkyar appeared from the corridor ahead, dressed in a very fine suit and groomed to perfection. Despite the large gap in age, the refined and confident way he walked towards them and combined with the image he presented made her heart skip a beat.

 

He bowed to the four of them with great reverence but there was no illusion to Eight that it was mostly Callie and Marie he was bowing to.

 

“Madam Calabria, and Madam Marie, what a pleasure it is to see you again.” Callie and Marie bobbed in return.

 

“Ronald,” Marie greeted. “It’s always pleasant to come to the House of Arachne and see you again. Where is Marita?”

 

“Apologies, she is just finishing up with a client. In the meantime, we can get you settled and bring some refreshments if you like.”

 

“Certainly. In the meantime, I beg for your patience in regards to our two guests. We’re all too aware that they seem underdressed but that is part of why we are here, after all.”

 

“Of course. Please, come with me and we’ll get you comfortable first of all.”

 

It was only when they began walking down the corridor that Eight realized it was happening again. The same situation with the mantle gloss, only it was in a place that was even more upscale and exclusive: they were in someone’s house! Surely that would be an even bigger affront. The people here didn’t regard her with the same suspicion or irritation that the employees at the cosmetic shop had but surely that was only because Marie had placated them and they were Callie and Marie’s guests.

 

_ Calm down,  _ she told herself.  _ If it was important, then Callie and Marie would have warned you. They knew it would be like this; just trust them. If you’re going to be well dressed you need to buy the appropriate clothes first. _ She supposed this was where that would happen. The wealthy certainly took their clothing shopping seriously, but why were they shopping at someone’s house? Did someone convert their massive home into a store? That would be efficient, she supposed.

 

The two inkyora’s in the lovely dresses walked ahead of them as Ronald pushed open a pair of doors that they then held open for them. The room they walked into made Eight and Four gasp.

 

The ceiling seemed to be made of a crystalline structure of some kind and it glowed a faint blue, lighting up the rest of the room. A pathway of blue carpet with recessed lavender lights along the edges led to a circular sitting area surrounded by lush green plants and purple velvet couches that looked too good to sit in.

 

Marie sat on one couch and gestured for Four to sit next to her. Four, who had been remarkably quiet so far, uttered only the tiniest of squeaks before obeying. Callie beckoned Eight and she sat on the other couch.

 

“You think you’re nervous, imagine how brides-to-be feel when they come here for a dress,” Callie whispered in her ear. “You could cut the tension with a baseball bat.”

 

“And what might we serve you?” Ronald asked.

 

“Green tea for me,” Marie said. “And Orange tea for this one.” She patted Four on the head.

 

“Iced tea for me,” Callie said. “That okay with you, Eight?” Eight ‘eeped’ but managed a nod. She was certain that no matter what it was, it would taste good coming from a place like this.

 

Ronald bowed and left, the two inkyora’s following. Eight felt a huge sense of relief when the doors closed.

 

“What the heck’s going on?” Four demanded, her voice on the verge of yelling. “You never said we were going somewhere fancy like this. I’m in shorts and a t-shirt!” 

 

That confirmed Eight’s suspicions that she was horribly underdressed, and she felt terrible making the same mistake again and only realizing it after she had already entered. Sloppy. At least it wasn’t her mistake this time, but why had Callie and Marie not told them?

 

“If there was a problem with that, we would have changed you before we got here,” Marie assured her. “Now calm down and just enjoy the fact that you get to be here. Most will go their whole lives without knowing what this place even looks like.”

 

Eight swallowed hard. Looking at the room it did look like a place made for gods. That suited Callie and Marie but not mere mortals like her.

 

The large wooden doors opened again and this time an older inkyora, perhaps middle-aged, came into the room. Just like Ronald before her, she took Eight’s breath away. She was dressed much the same as the other inkyora she had seen there so far but her uniform seemed a bit more elaborate and she carried herself with an air of authority. This must have been an officer like Ronald.

 

She stopped in the centre of the circular carpeted area and then bent at the knees and bowed, grasping her dress and spreading it wide in a display that made Eight’s jaw drop. Beautiful, was the only word she could think of to describe it.

 

“My ladies,” she said in a soft tone. “My sincerest apologies for making you wait. I am here to serve you.”

 

“Nice to see you again, Marita,” Marie greeted. “I’m afraid we have a couple of problems we need your help with. Starting with her.” Marita stood back up straight and turned her head as Marie nodded in Eight’s direction.

 

“Oh, it was just awful!” Callie suddenly wrapped her arms around Eight, gripping her in a tight hug. “This poor girl was sent on an errand to get Rosesquid’s Mantle Gloss, and you know what kind of shops carry that fancy stuff.” She nuzzled Eight warmly, the octoling totally bewildered by this sudden change in Callie’s behaviour. “Pearl sent her there in memorabilia wear. Can you believe it?” She patted Eight on the head. “She had no idea what kind of message that sent when she walked into that shop. The employees had to tell her. Can you imagine how embarrassed she was? How horrible she must have felt?”

 

Marita gasped and she looked directly at Eight. “Oh, you poor thing! Put into such a situation.”

 

“And it’s only going to happen again,” Marie cut in. “But what if she gets sent somewhere even more exclusive? She could get herself thrown out just from wearing the wrong clothes, no matter how earnest she may be in carrying out her duties. Basically, we’re here because Pearl tasked her with finding some appropriate housekeeping clothes.” She grinned, “but Callie and I, being the good philanthropists we are, decided that she should have a proper uniform to save herself from the embarrassment she experienced before, and any future hassle.”

 

“I understand perfectly.” Marita had a firm purpose in her voice. It reminded Eight of times in the army when octolings had been given assignments they had been eagerly anticipating or wanting for a long time. Eight wondered if perhaps Pearl had not been completely forthcoming about the whole thing.

 

Marita walked to a nearby pedestal and retrieved a small remote. She touched a small stud on the pedestal itself and the light dimmed as a small square of light shone on the far wall: a projection.

 

“Any criteria to start with?”

 

“Definitely something classic,” Callie said. “Nothing too fancy though.”

 

“She is working in a condo, after all,” Marie added. “So it should be simple to clean and wash in an ordinary washing machine with ordinary detergent.”

 

“We should go more for cute,” Callie insisted. “Easy to move around in since she’ll basically be doing everything.”

 

“Can’t make it too cute,” Marie warned. “She has to look dignified enough to go into exclusive places.”

 

The projection became a user interface of some sort and Marita expertly navigated through the menus to the one she was looking for. From there they sorted through images of many outfits somewhat similar to what the Marita and the other inkyora’s had been wearing.

 

The two inkyora’s that had left came back at about that time, wheeling a cart with the fanciest teacups that Eight had ever seen. She watched in awe, oblivious to what was happening on the projected screen, as the two inkyora arranged the cups and prepared the tea with the elegance and grace of a bird riding the wind. How could something as simple as pouring tea be so enchanting?

 

One of the inkyora served Marie and Four their tea and the other served Callie and Eight. Eight accepted the teacup and saucer as if being gifted priceless objects from the gods themselves and bowed her head in gratitude as she did so.

 

She drank gingerly from the cup, remembering Pearl’s scoldings about not slurping. It was the most wonderful tea she had ever tasted in her week and a half of surface life. Was this how Callie and Marie experienced life every day? They really were on a whole other level.

 

“I like that style,” Callie said. “If we could just make the skirt a bit shorter.”

 

“Why do you want the skirt so wide?” Marie asked.

 

“Because it’s cute.”

 

“That’s too short. She’s a proper housekeeper, Callie, she’s not working at a café. Just above the knees but no higher.”

 

“Fine.”

 

After Callie and Marie made their final selection, Marita bowed. “Please, wait a few moments while I process your selection.” As she left, the two inkyora took positions next to the touches, maintaining a respectable distance but staying close at hand.

 

Marita returned a few minutes later, armed with measuring tape. She nodded to one of the other inkyora who produced a pad and paper. Marita smiled at Eight and gestured for her to stand. Eight obeyed instantly and came rigidly to attention.

 

Callie giggled. “Relax, Eight. She’s just going to measure you for the uniform.”

 

“Oh.” Eight stood in the middle and relaxed as much as she could while Marita took her measurements and relayed them to the other inkyora. She did note that a few of her measurements had gone up. Hardly surprising given her new diet. She hoped her old uniform would still fit.

 

“Alright, you’re up now,” Marie told Four as Marita finished up with Eight.

 

“What? What for? I’m nobody’s maid.”

 

“No, but you do need something nice to wear if you’re going to follow Callie and me to places shorts and a t-shirt won’t cut it. Now don’t fuss and be a good girl for me. I’m only trying to buy you something pretty to wear so we can meet in places other than work.”

 

Marie’s caramel voice was too much for Four to resist and she reluctantly stood to get her measurements taken. Eight couldn’t understand why Four would be anything less than honoured or joyful to receive such generosity. Maybe it was because, unlike Eight, this wasn’t something she needed out of necessity but was instead being given a door into a world she thought she didn’t belong. Eight understood that a little, but knowing it was part of her new job was all the rationality she needed. Maybe Four needed that too.

 

Eight then wondered if Three had been through all of this before them. Was this some kind of a tradition for agents? Had Callie and Marie themselves gone through something like this or were they the ones who started it? Either way, Eight was grateful for it. 

 

She hadn’t been paying attention and thus hadn’t seen the actual uniform Callie and Marie had picked out for her, but if their own clothing was any indication of their fashion sense, she knew it would be good and practical. Eight couldn’t wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Callie and Marie are also taking it upon themselves to help take Eight under their wing and give her some new perspectives. But will it be for better or for worse? You'll have to wait and see ;)


	9. You Think You Know Someone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three does some research on Gyari Trailmaker while Eight finally gets her new outfit.

Three had resisted the temptation to do an internet search on Gyari Trailmaker for more than a day. What concerned her was not the inkyar himself but rather what her connection to him could possibly be. The unknown was always terrifying. Instead, she spent the intervening day helping her iya with housework, which actually involved cleaning her own room more than anything else. Even so, it created some dearly missed bonding time and she was glad she did it.

 

By next morning, Three couldn’t wait any longer. Almost the second her father left for work, she was on his computer. It didn’t take long at all to turn up something. Less than twenty minutes after she started, Three felt she had a pretty good idea why Katrina had been more than a little anxious about what Three would find.

 

Gyari Trailmaker had been an infamous street racer thirty years ago. He caused numerous road accidents with innocent drivers and other racers, which earned him time behind bars. By the time he got out, the street racers moved their operations to the more deserted mountain roads. There he developed a reputation as a bold and highly skilled driver and actually helped establish some of the early codes of conduct street racers were expected to follow to make things safer for both them and other motorists. It seemed like he was redeeming himself a little after his time in jail, but then things went downhill in that sense, figuratively speaking.

 

Three found a website dedicated to Gyari, rather, the family he had created. There she clicked on the link called “Family Story.” She skimmed through the parts of Gyari’s life story she was already familiar with and then picked up where it mentioned that Gyari’s infamy was about to be cemented. 

 

At the time, there were a number of female street racers, among the best at what they did, called the Mountain Queens, each being the fastest drivers on their own mountain. They were basically the street racing equivalent of a gang leader. Each of them put out a yun’rai-ka all at the same time and Three just shook her head, guessing where this was going. 

 

A yun’rai-ka was a very old tradition dating back almost two-thousand years, before turf battles became widespread. Females (usually those of some high standing), who had many suitors or just one or two persistent males, could put forth a challenge. A male who won the challenge would then win her hand in marriage.

 

In theory, the challenge was meant to sort out the weak from the strong and grant the female a mate of suitable strength and prowess to give her strong children and prove the candidate worthy as someone capable of providing for her. It made for good movie and TV drama, and plenty of girls still swooned at the idea of having a bunch of boys competing for them and then ending up with the winner, ideally, the strongest and best candidate. In practice, however, the challenges were rarely so romantic.

 

Any yun’rai-ka, by its very nature and purpose, had to be difficult and was often dangerous. In the old days, females were known make impossible challenges just to amuse themselves and get off watching males injure themselves attempting to complete it. Such was the privilege of being the dominant, bigger, and stronger sex of their species back then. Perhaps the consequences for the yun’rai-ka were the god’s way of inflicting some justice. There was a reason females who became the wives of males who won their challenge were referred to as being “conquered.”

 

If a male won the challenge put forth, then not only did he win the challenger’s hand in marriage, she would also take his name, thereby relinquishing her right as head of the household; and, just so they couldn’t go back on their word, they lost their right to divorce. Sometimes, if the male was particularly spiteful, he would then marry another female the old fashioned way, and when he took her name, the humbled challenger would be forced to take it as well, subservient to the new wife. If she had any self-respect, she would grin and bear it, but she wouldn’t be happy.

 

The yun’rai-ka these street racing queens put forth was that they had to be beaten in a one on one race three times in a row on their home track. Given their high level of skill and home field advantage, they probably thought themselves pretty safe. People like that tended to only respect skills they themselves understood and that only a suitor better at their chosen skill than them would be worthy of them. Given the nature of the challenge, it was possible they could have withdrawn the challenge if they started to get tired or feel threatened, especially if many failed. Gyari Trailmaker, however, did not.

 

One after another he conquered them, earning the  _ nomme de guerre _ : “The Road King” and his conquered wives became his queens. He beat no fewer than six and failed to conquer only his first and third challenges. That made Three shiver in both fear and a primal excitement, that base instinct that helped her identify strong potential mates and encouraged her to mate with them. Damn her teenage urges.

 

The website listed his wives but not all the ones he had challenged. Matron Silvia, Katrina’s mother, was there. She was the fourth that Gyari challenged and the second he conquered. That explained a great deal of what Three had seen at the car meet. She had even been the queen of the very mountain that restaurant was on.

 

As if Gyari’s prestige wasn’t big enough, five of his six conquered wives gave him sons as firstborns, a shocking number considering inklings had a male to female ratio of roughly 2:3 by birth rate, but males had a higher likelihood of dying before adulthood, even in the modern day. No wonder so many males seemed to admire him. All told, he was like the epitome of masculinity and male prowess. A genuine, modern day king, in his own way.

 

Three leaned back in her chair in thought. So Katrina was the only daughter of the “Road King.” No wonder everyone referred to her as “Princess” and no wonder she seemed to hate the moniker. As fascinating, or perhaps disturbing, as all this was, none of it explained any connection she might have to Gyari. Unless… were her parents involved in street racing at some point? That didn’t seem like them.

 

“I knew this would happen one day.”

 

Three jumped in her seat and spun around to see Purdie standing there, a forlorn look in her eyes as she gazed at the screen.

 

“Iya, you scared me! Wait, you knew about this?”

 

“Sweetie, please. Do you think I would have bonded with your mother if I didn’t know this much about her past? It was an important, albeit brief, part of her life: street racing.”

 

Three felt a lead weight fall in her stomach and her throat suddenly felt dry. “Mama was a street racer? How come you never told me?”

 

Purdie sighed. “We know you. You’d want to know more because you always want to know more about your mother. The things she liked to do, why she did them...”

 

“Or why you fell in love with her?” Three queried with a wry smile.

 

Purdie blushed. “She was a strong inkyora and I admired her...”

 

“But I want to know why.” Three grasped Purdie’s hands, her mantle turning a dark pink with spots of azure blue. “You told me once that a part of Mama is in me. That means a part of her is a part of me and I want to know more about that part of me. I’m not trying to get into street racing, but there are people there who knew Mama, and you too, so I want to know more. It’s because I love you.”

 

Purdie flinched, her expression turning into one of grudging respect, even as splotches of red appeared in her mantle. “Of all the things you could have inherited from your father, it had to be his fast sweet talking.” Three just grinned, her mantle a cocky orange. It hadn’t been just her father; she had learned it from Callie and Marie too.

 

“Fine,” Purdie agreed, “but if you see Silvia, and you will, be sure to call her ‘Auntie Silvia.’ She and your mother were close friends, almost soul mates. I was acquaintances with her at best, but to honor your mother, I still call her family.”

 

_ Then why haven’t I heard of her before today?  _ That was the obvious question but Three bowed her head appreciatively and then stood up to give Purdie a hug. “Thank you, Iya. I love you.”

 

Purdie wrapped her arms tightly around her precious daughter and kissed the top of her head. “I love you too.”

 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Eight was full of excitement and nerves as they returned to the House of Arachne, which, as it turned out, was not actually someone’s house, but just the name of the store. They arrived at roughly the same time as before. Callie and Marie had the morning off and were eager to see Eight and Four dressed in their new clothes.

 

Eight hadn’t been able to do much about what she wore, still only possessing t-shirts and shorts, but Four had made some effort, donning a cute yellow dress with little black shoes. Callie and Marie had spent several minutes gushing over how adorable she looked in that outfit, much to her embarrassment.

 

The valet, as Eight knew him now, drove the car away to be parked and the two inkyora in the lovely apron dresses [maids they were called], greeted them and opened the doors.

 

Ronald brought them to a new room, this one less elaborate or decorated than the one from before. The room’s walls were painted a dark peach colour with white ceiling and a dark wood floor. There were three couches, each one apparently made of white synthleather. They only occupied two.

 

Opposite them was a half circle arrangement of mirrors surrounding a circular raised platform, all under a halo of gentle white-blue lights. It appeared to be a more elaborate arrangement of the mirrors in the changing area of the clothing stores Pearl and Marina had taken her to, but where were the actual change rooms?

 

Marita arrived with two maids wheeling small carts and a third following behind. The first had refreshments and the second had three maroon boxes. She bowed and greeted them.

 

“We have your orders here if you’d care to try them on.” She gestured to the cart with the boxes, and the two maids.

 

“You first, Four,” Marie said.

 

“Huh? Why me?”

 

“Because I told you so and because then Eight will be less anxious. You know more what to expect than she does. Go on.”

 

Four’s face flushed, even her ears turned some kind of blue, but she obeyed and went towards the cart. Morita gestured towards the mirrors and a maid opened one of them like a door, revealing a space on the other side. Eight would have never guessed there was a door there. Two of the maids followed Four inside and then the door was closed behind them.

 

“Why are they going in with Four?” Eight whispered to Callie.

 

“Just to help her change. It’ll be Four’s first time wearing something quite like this so she’ll be nervous.”

 

“Wouldn’t she have felt better if you and Marie helped her instead?”

 

Callie giggled. “Probably, but Four’s a big girl and we can’t hold her hand all the time.” Eight left it at that, but she knew it would be her turn next. Would she also have help? Just to get changed into a uniform? Surely it couldn’t be that elaborate.

 

Eight occupied her time watching the maids. She had become enamoured with them ever since their first day at the House of Arachne. The way every moment was calculated and refined, how they could turn the simple act of pouring tea into a kind of art form and despite being the ones serving, had as much elegance and dignity as any person she could imagine of any standing.

 

Finally, the door opened again. The two maids emerged and stood on either side of the doorway, their faces glowing with bright smiles, and then, Four emerged.

 

Callie and Marie squealed with delight and even Eight was dumbstruck by Four’s change of appearance.

 

Four’s dress before had been cute, but simple and nothing Eight hadn’t seen one or two inklings wear on the street. This was something else entirely. 

 

Four’s dress was a blend of gradually changing oranges, like the horizon at sunrise. Unlike her previous dress, it didn’t have any straps keeping it up. The skirt flared the same way but the torso was closer to her body, helping give it more definition. The ensemble was completed with a pair of long white gloves that reached her elbows and a pair of orange shoes painted a metallic orange.

 

Callie and Marie had their phones out and were zealously taking pictures while Four looked like she wanted to hide but was somehow frozen in place.

 

“You look so cute!” Callie gushed. 

 

“Smile, Four.” Marie urged. “There’s no reason for you not to be happy right now.”

 

When it looked as if Four would turn to goo any second, they finally relented and bid the maids to help her change out of the dress.

 

As Eight watched the door shut, Callie giggled. “She’s so cute. She’ll be a huge hit at that ball back home.”

 

Eight frowned. “Ball?”

 

“A social gathering where people dance,” Marie elaborated. “It’s an annual event in Four’s hometown. She’ll be going back there this weekend for a visit.”

 

“Oh…” Eight had no idea. She and Four had spent a lot of time together recently, despite both their duties, but why had Four never mentioned this? Were they not friends?

 

“Four didn’t know that we knew,” Callie explained. “That’s one reason she was so embarrassed and happy. Now she has the perfect dress for that ball.”

 

So Four had even been trying to keep it a secret from even them. Eight didn’t feel as bad then. Perhaps Four had been too embarrassed to bring it up.

 

After Four reemerged wearing her original dress, Callie urged Eight upwards. “Your turn now, Eight. Don’t give them trouble and let them help you. You’ve never worn anything like this.” She grinned knowingly and Eight took in a deep breath, doing her best to mentally prepare herself for what was to come.

 

The actual change room was quite plain. Four white walls, a white ceiling, a simple white carpet and a small burgundy bench. The simplicity of it was a far departure from the elaborately decorated and designed spaces she had come to expect of the place.

 

The first thing Eight did was strip. The two maids accepted her clothes and folded them in their hands even as she continued undressing. Once down to her underwear, they opened the box and revealed the outfit.

 

It was black dress with white frills at the hems and at the end of the short sleeves. The skirt looked a lot shorter than Four’s. As the maids helped her into it, she found that it was actually quite light, even compared to her t-shirt, and yet the material felt more durable and stronger. It might not have been as strong as synthleather but it was much lighter and cooler.

 

As one of the maids zipped the dress up at the back, the other took out a white apron from the box. “You have nice hips,” she said as she adjusted the apron’s height.

 

“Thank you,” Eight said quietly, blushing at the compliment.

 

The maid behind her tied the apron snug enough to keep it in place but loose enough to let her move and flex without issues.

 

Next, they slipped very long white socks up just past her knees. “Stockings” they called them. Eight was surprised how comfortable they were, as if they were hugging her legs.

 

They carefully lifted one foot at a time and placed them into black little shoes that didn’t seem terribly utilitarian but when her feet slipped inside them she forgot all about that. They were easily the most pleasant footwear she had ever worn, even more than the inkling sneakers she had been wearing. There was something in them beneath her feet that moulded to shape her feet perfectly and damped the impact of every little footfall. Quite practical if she was going to be on her feet a lot and they were lighter than any boots she had ever worn so they would be less tiring to walk in.

 

As the maids smoothed out the wrinkles and adjusted the outfit a little here and there, Eight found it to fit her every contour perfectly. It hung just loose enough to give her freedom of movement but snug enough that it didn’t rub or aggravate her sense of touch. It breathed well too.

 

Finally, the maids each took an arm and slipped little white gloves onto her hands. They felt soft to the touch and seemed made to fit her. She had never worn such marvellous gloves.

 

“Are you ready?” One of the maids asked. Eight noted that both of them looked delighted, with a kind of subtle pride behind their expressions.

 

Eight squared her shoulders and imagined herself about to walk in for review before a board. “Yes, I’m ready.”

 

The maids opened the door for her and she stepped out into the halo of lights waiting for her on the other side. She heard Callie, Marie, and even Four squeal before she even crossed the threshold.

 

“It’s as cute as I hoped it would look!” Callie began taking rapid-fire photos with her phone.

 

“You look great, Eight.” Marie said. Four gave her a simple thumbs up but her approval was written clearly all over her face.

 

When Eight turned around to look at her reflection in the array of mirrors, she nearly staggered at the sight. She saw an octoling in a pretty dress- a maid’s dress, looking far more refined and elegant and beautiful than she had any right to look. Even in her most self-absorbed and vain fantasies, she never imagined herself looking anything like that.

 

“Is… is this really… me?” Tears stung the corners of her eyes and her vision started to go fuzzy.

 

Marita came over and gently wiped her face with a handkerchief. “Now now, no tears little one. You’ll stain your pretty new dress.”

 

“I’m trying,” Eight sobbed. “But I can’t. I don’t understand. I thought I was just getting a uniform for housekeeping.”

 

“Housekeeping and for looking well enough out to conduct your errands without people second-guessing you and doubting your sincerity,” Marie clarified. “This uniform does both. A maid isn’t a mere servant or houseworker; they are an individual of class themselves. Someone of stature and standing wouldn’t want to be surrounded by anything less.”

 

“But… but I’m not a maid.”

 

“No,” Marita said. “But it’s a start. At the very least, this will help you do the job you have. Now, let us calm down and I’ll tell you more about your uniform. It’s much more than it seems. At the same time, I can give you a little help in how to be a proper maid.”

 

Eight blinked her eyes clear and came to attention. “Yes please, ma’am.”

 

“Very good. First...”

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

“Ugh, what a day,” Pearl groaned. “It’s been a while since we put in a stint this long. Even the splatfests weren’t as long as this.”

 

“I’m looking forward to a nice hot soak,” Marina sighed. “I think we’ve only used the hot tub once since we moved into that penthouse.”

 

“And that was for our housewarming party.”  Pearl smiled fondly. “That was a good time. We stayed up way too late but that party was probably one of the best I’d ever been to. All our friends were there, we had shown we were really moving up in the world, and then we got the Inkopolis news gig almost right after.”

 

“It’s tough to imagine anything that’ll top that,” Marina agreed. “Are you sure you want to walk home today?”

 

“I know we’re both tired but I seriously need the air.” Pearl rubbed her temples. “Besides, we don’t get as much exercise outside of practicing our moves. I don’t think I’ll sleep if I don’t have a chance to clear my head.”

 

“I don’t mind.” Marina gently put her hand on Pearl’s shoulder. “Let’s go.”

 

The nighttime air was crisp and clear as cool air was blown into Inkopolis from the sea. The footpath they took towards their condo complex was all but deserted with most of their company being moths circling lamps illuminating the path ahead.

 

Marina took a deep, relaxing breath. “It feels like I can think again. It’s been so long since I’ve enjoyed some peace and quiet.”

 

“I never thought I’d ever want peace and quiet,” Pearl replied. “With our job as hosts, concerts, then the whole thing with Eight and Tartar, it’s been a busy year so far.”

 

“I’m glad we took in Eight.” Marina beamed. “Having her around, someone else we can really trust, it feels really good, you know?”

 

“Yeah, I know. She’s kinda’ impressionable though. I’m worried someone will give her ideas if we don’t stay on top of her.”

 

“Now Pearl, we have to let her grow into her own person.”

 

Pearl groaned. “You’re starting to sound like her mom.”

 

“Am I now?” Marina grinned. “And what does that make you?”

 

Pearl smirked. “Probably the busybody aunt who tries to tell you how to raise your kid.”

 

Marina rolled her eyes. “Anything to avoid commitment, huh Pearlie?”

 

Pearl sunk her hands into the pockets of her jacket. “It’s not that. I just can’t imagine myself as a parent, even a pretend one. You think a kid would listen to me after all the rebellious stuff I did? I’d have no right to tell them not to go off and do their own thing. Besides, pretty much every guy out there will just be interested in my inheritance.”

 

“Awww Pearlie, I’m sure there are some guys out there who would love you for who you are and not how big your wallet is. Even Callie and Marie date.”

 

“It never lasts though, does it?” Pearl made a circular motion with her finger. “They know they can’t have a lasting or worthwhile relationship as long as they’re stars, not when they can’t even go outside without somebody wanting their autograph or trying to take their picture. They’ll go on a date or two with some guy just for fun and then they’ll both move on as if it were nothing more than a kid’s playdate.”

 

Marina nodded slowly. “I see. So, what’s your plan for dating then?”

 

Pearl frowned. “Huh?”

 

“Well, you wouldn’t feel so strongly about it if it wasn’t something you wanted.” She smirked. “And I know you, Pearlie. If you want something you don’t let something get in the way. You’ll go around or through, whatever it takes.”

 

Pearl huffed and sunk her head between her shoulders. “It’s not like the species won’t go on without me. There are plenty of other girls who can lay eggs, including my own sister. She’ll be enough to carry on the family genes and I’ll be allowed to just keep rocking out until I croak. Not everyone’s cut out to be a parent, Marina.”

 

“That doesn’t mean you aren’t. Maybe your species won’t go extinct if you don’t lay some eggs, but I would like to see you do that someday.” Pearl stared ahead and said nothing for a very long five seconds.

 

“How did we get to talking about such depressing stuff?”

 

Marina laughed. “You know, it happens every time we unload our minds. You were right, Pearl, we really needed this walk.”

 

Pearl laughed too. “Tell me about it. I’m only twenty-one and I’m thinking about eggs? It’s way too soon for that. I’ve got at least another ten years to wait before I can even think seriously about that. Let’s hurry home before we meet Eight as blubbering messes.”

 

They jogged the rest of the way to the complex. It wasn’t a very long trip from there and they made it in a short time. As they rode the elevator up to the top, Pearl spoke again.

 

“Do you think Eight was okay today? She seemed distracted, like something was on her mind.”

 

“I’m sure it was Three. You know, they’ve had something ever since they escaped the metro.”

 

“I noticed that. Any idea what it’s about? I haven’t seen them together much since then but somehow I just feel like there’s something that ties them together, something other than the fact that they saved each other.”

 

“I think it’s partly camaraderie,” Marina said. “Three is one of the few who can appreciate what she’s been through and what it’s like to be a soldier. There’s a mutual respect there, and I think that’s where their connection to each other originates from.”

 

The elevator stopped at the top and Pearl stepped out first. “Come on, Three’s not a soldier, we don’t have inkling soldiers anymore. She’s just a regular kid who got roped into being an agent, whatever that means.” Pearl’s voice trailed off as she saw Marina’s expression darken and her eyes cloud. She grasped her hand and gave it a little shake. “Hey, you with me?” Marina flinched and uttered a little gasp before she shook her head clear.

 

“Y-yes, I am. Sorry, just flashbacks is all.”

 

Pearl gave Marina a firm glare. “One day, soon, you and I are going to have to talk about that past of yours. I don’t like not knowing something that important about you, Marina. You’re the best friend I’ve ever had, that means l get jealous when people seem to know things about you that I don’t. Captain Cuttlefish is chill with you so anything you’ve done can’t be that bad. Eight probably has some stuff to get off her chest too. If you’re right about her and Three, maybe she’ll get it off to her. Now come on, Eight’s waiting for us.”

 

Marina shook herself and managed to smile. “It’s kinda nice coming home knowing someone’s waiting on the other side. It really makes it feel like a home is supposed to be.”

 

“Hey, don’t start getting all weepy, you’ll make your little sister all worried.” She teased and unlocked the door to their condo.

 

“Eight, we’re ho-uhwaaaaaaaa!?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realize these last few chapters may not have been as fun or entertaining as some of the earlier ones but I'm trying to make the content better. At least this chapter adds some new mysteries and the promise of some laughs next chapter ;)


	10. Pearl's Perspective

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little communication and sometimes someone's perspective on things, and even other people, can change. Sometimes, both ways.

Eight felt like she was floating on air as she went about cleaning the penthouse. Before today, she never thought someone could dress appropriately for labour and look pretty at the same time. Now, she was that someone. Every time she caught her reflection as she worked a huge grin would appear on her face. She just couldn’t help it; she felt like a princess.

 

The countertops were scrubbed clean, all the appliances gleamed, and the bathroom had been so thoroughly scrubbed that Eight could claim one could safely eat off of it. She was glad Four had taken her shopping the other day for other cleaning gear. The thick rubber gloves, face mask, and safety goggles had proven useful.

The last thing on her list of things to do was cleaning the top shelves in the living room. They hadn’t been dusted since Pearl and Marina had moved in and looking at the thick layer there now it was long past due. Eight started with the small hand vacuum, sucking up the worst of it before she had to empty it and use it in combination with the duster. She didn’t want to spread the dust elsewhere after all. She was just finishing up with a cleaning rag when she heard the door open and then Pearl’s voice.

“Eight, we’re ho-uhwaaaaaaaa!?”

The stepladder was positioned almost directly in line with the entrance, so Pearl and Marina saw her the moment they opened the door. Eight had expected some kind of reaction from her new appearance, and Callie and Marie had counted on it, hence the motion-triggered camera they left behind, oriented towards the entrance. Still, Eight hadn’t expected a reaction this strong.

Pearl and Marina both stood in the doorway, the former with her mouth hanging open, eyes wide as saucers, and her mantle a very bright orange. The latter had her hands over her mouth, eyes wide but less in shock than surprise, her tentacles splayed wide enough to completely expose her face.

Marita’s brief but firm instruction kicked in and Eight hopped off the ladder and curtsied, something totally new she had learned to do just today. “Welcome home.” Marina looked as though she were about to float to the moon, whereas Pearl.exe had stopped working.

Marina let out a high-pitched squeal and ran inside, stopping barely centimetres in front of Eight. “Oh, Eight, you look so cute! Where did you get this outfit? You look just like a real maid.”

Pearl finally recovered from her shock and hurried over, arms flailing. “What the carp, Eight? What are you doing in that getup?”

Eight reeled back, not expecting such vehemence from Pearl, who was usually such a chill squid. “Uh… well I… oh, no I didn’t buy this with the card you gave me. I only used that to buy some coveralls, gloves and-.”

“I’m not talking about that,” Pearl snapped. “I mean where did you get this outfit and what in the Sovereign God’s great universe could possess you to wear it?”

“Pearl!” Marina glared at her partner disapprovingly. Pearl flashed white once and backed off a little.

Eight collected herself quickly. She had dealt with enough angry officers and NCOs that Pearl’s outburst had barely phased her but she did feel a little hurt. “It was a gift made just for me. I thought I looked pretty…”

“You do look pretty,” Marina insisted. “And adorable at the same time. It’s a wonderful outfit that suits you very well. Doesn’t it, Pearl?”

Pearl averted her gaze and clasped her hands behind her back. “Y-yeah, you look… pretty.” Eight smiled and wrapped her arms around the little squid’s body tightly.

“G-geez, don’t get all sappy,” Pearl mumbled, gently patting Eight’s back. “Just… sorry, okay?”

“Eight,” Marina said. “Could you get the hot tub ready? Pearl and I really need a nice hot soak right now. It’s been a long day.”

Eight released Pearl and bowed her head in obedience. “Oh.” She reached into one of the pockets of her uniform and pulled out a folded paper. “I was told to give this to you.” She handed it to Pearl and then skipped off to her appointed task.

Marina took a moment to shut the front door and then went over to Pearl as she carefully unfolded the crisp note.

“Dear Pearl Persimmon Pygmy,” Pearl wrinkled her nose at the use of her full name and then read on. “While someone should not be judged purely by the outfit they wear or by their finances, one’s actions do reflect on them and the people they associate with. A little consideration towards how you look to others and how you can make others look by your presence goes a long way to establishing and maintaining effective relationships. Always bear in mind that your actions reflect on Eight now as well as her actions reflecting on you. Signed, the Squid Sisters!”

Pearl stared at the last line of flowing cursive on the paper that formed the Squid Sister’s signatures, unable to believe what she was reading. The actual Squid Sisters had pulled this stunt? Had they been the ones to put Eight in that outfit? True, Eight had met them once or twice before but that was because they were Captain Cuttlefish’s granddaughters, they weren’t buddy buddy. How had something like this happened? Was this just some kind of prank?

She glanced up at Marina who was all starry-eyed, as she normally was with anything involving the Squid Sisters. Pearl snapped her fingers under her nose to jar her out of it.

“Talk to me, Marina. Do you think this is some kind of joke?”

“Huh, joke? You don’t think it was really them?”

“I don’t know. I mean, Eight’s been hanging around with Four a lot lately and she knows them so it’s possible.” She handed Marina the letter and she began to read it.

“If it was them who wrote this, then they must have found out about what happened when Eight went to pick up your mantle gloss. It makes sense she would talk to Four about it. Besides us, she’s her only friend.”

Pearl raised an eyebrow. “I guess, but you don’t consider Three her friend? Weren’t we just talking about some kind of connection they had?”

Marina shook her head. “They have a mutual respect and a kind of bond from what they went through together, but I also think there’s some distance there.” She sighed. “I know Three is just a kid to you, but she’s… something else to us octarians. Maybe Eight’s still bothered about it.”

Pearl looked into her eyes for several long uncomfortable seconds. “Well, you owe me an explanation for that sometime. Right now, I think we just need to relax.”

“Yes,” Marina agreed wholeheartedly. “Relax.”

After a quick shower, both pop idols slipped into the bubbling jacuzzi. Marina let out a long sigh of relaxation as her body adjusted to the water’s temperature.

“I needed this,” she whispered.

“Tell me about it,” Pearl agreed.

Eight appeared, still wearing her maid uniform. “I brought you your towels and some fruit tarts.” She placed the towels on the nearby table and the treats on a counter space built into the hot tub itself.

“Thank you, Eight,” Marina smiled. Eight bowed and then turned around to leave.

“Hold on a sec, Eight.” Pearl called. “I think we both deserve an explanation about what and how all this happened, right?” Eight turned around, slowly, and raised an eyebrow. “I mean, how did you end up getting into that outfit? How did two of the world’s biggest celebrities find out about what happened to you?”

Eight’s lips turned into a thin line as she thought about how to respond. She decided that a quick summary would be best, so she told them about how she spoke to Four about her problems that same day and how Callie and Marie happened to show up and how they disagreed with Pearl’s advice. From there, it was pretty simple to wrap up with everything that happened at the House of Arachne and up to them coming home today. When she had finished, Pearl looked even more tired than she had before slipping into the tub.

“Well now I really know what that letter was about,” she groaned.

“It’s just because they care, Pearlie,” Marina soothed, gently stroking her partner’s soft white mantle. “It’s not like they hate you.”

“But they’re younger than me,” Pearl grumbled. “What’s more humbling than getting told off by kids who can’t even drink yet?”

“Awww, but I’m even younger than them and I tell you off all the time.” Marina grinned smugly and Pearl rolled her eyes.

“You’re my partner, part of the duo; that’s a unique position. Anyway, it’s time we got out of this tub before we faint or shrivel up, or whatever it is people say will happen if you spend too much time in a hot tub.”

Eight grabbed Pearl’s towel and held it out for her as she emerged. The inkling’s stark white body was only a shade darker than her mantle. The contrast against Marina’s dark skin really highlighted just how different they were, and how different inklings and octolings were. Pearl had never thought about it much but, she supposed that perhaps, with Eight a part of her life now and somewhat reliant on her, she would have to pay more attention to those differences.

****  
  


As Eight finished cleaning up, she went to the living room and retrieved Callie and Marie’s camera. Pearl and Marina hadn’t noticed it at all. Even if they had, the camera had been set to use the penthouse’s wifi to upload the video to a cloud from where Callie and Marie could download it and watch. 

Eight turned the camera off and brought it to her bedroom, slipping it into her knapsack. As she undressed, she wondered what Callie and Marie’s reaction to the footage would be.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Eight’s eyes snapped awake, her chest rising and falling rapidly. She had a nightmare again. Why did they continue to persist? She had come to the promised land, come to the place she had spent two entire years of her life trying to make her way to. Why did she yet have to cease having nightmares about someone who had done as much to make her feel welcome in Inkopolis as anyone else?

Eight slid out of bed and put on her slippers. She would get herself a little drink and maybe that would help her relax a bit. When she arrived at the kitchen, however, she discovered that the light over the sink was on. Pearl was standing at the counter, waiting for the kettle to boil.

Pearl’s head perked up and she looked in her direction. “Couldn’t sleep?” Eight nodded. “Me neither. Damn, the night I think I need sleep the most and it gets away from me.” She gave Eight a sardonic smile. “I’m making tea. Want some?” Eight nodded again.

Pearl took out an extra cup and then leaned back against the kitchen island. “So, what’s bothering you? Another nightmare?” A nod and Pearl hummed. “Marina said you had nightmares involving Three.” Nod. Pearl sighed. 

“Look, I know you fought her when she was under Tartar’s control but that wasn’t her fault. You know she doesn’t want to hurt you, right?”

Eight nodded again, slowly this time. “Not anymore.”

Pearl frowned. “What do you mean, ‘not anymore?’ Did you fight before that?”

“It was a misunderstanding but Three… well, it’s not really Three I have nightmares of, just what I was told Three was. 

“Before I met her, all I knew was what they told us about her. That she was a monster of an inkling that had already killed many of us and taken the zapfish one by one, never slowing down or stopping. That’s the Three I keep having nightmares of, not the real one.”

“She saved your life,” Pearl whispered. “Doesn’t sound like the same person to me. You probably know her better than I do. Hard to imagine you getting the two confused.”

“Yes, she’s kind and gentle, most of the time, but then I saw that match she was in today and I remembered what she was. Somehow, I suppose I forgot.”

Pearl let out a breath she had been unconsciously holding and relaxed a bit. “I see, I get it now. When you saw that, a part of you remembered the monster you thought her to be and think that maybe there’s more truth to it than you thought.”

Eight paused for a moment, thinking. “Perhaps. If I knew her better, maybe I wouldn’t feel that way.”

The kettle beeped softly and Pearl poured the hot water into their waiting cups. Handing Eight’s cup to her she said, “Well, then the solution is simple, isn’t it? Get to know her, learn about her. Find out what she likes, what she doesn’t like. Even Marina and I took time to really know each other. Heck, I still don’t know everything about her. She keeps her past hidden from me. It used to never bother me; I thought I should respect her privacy. Everyone has stuff they don’t wanna talk about, and I didn’t think it mattered, but ever since Cuttlefish showed me that file from when she was in the Octarian Army, I’ve started having doubts.”

“She was an amazing person,” Eight said softly. “I never knew her before the metro but I really admired her, a lot of us did. She was a genius and she gave us hope. We weren’t wrong. With everything she’s done here with you, she’s represented our kind well.”

“Represented your kind, huh?” Pearl drank from her cup thoughtfully. “I never thought about it that way. I always thought she just wanted to make music and have fun.”

“She does. That’s why she’s so great at representing us. It’s not because of an agenda, it’s who she is.”

“Hey, I wasn’t saying she had an agenda, and I never thought she was faking it, just… never realized what she meant to a lot of people, I guess.” She grinned. “You gotta’ admit though, even for an octoling, she’s kinda weird.”

Eight giggled. “Yes, she is, but that’s part of why I love her.”

“Yeah, me too. Say, why don’t you take her with you when you go to Three’s car thing.”

“The car meet?”

“Yeah. She needs to get out some and other than you I don’t think she’s ever talked to another octoling- not as far as I know anyway.”

“Hmmm, well, Three did suggest I bring her if I could and she did seem interested, so I can ask her.”

“You do that. Callie and Marie going on their tour might be the opportunity we need to take a bit of a break. They won’t bother having us do events while that’s happening.” Pearl put down her cup and gave Eight a gentle push. “Now come on, let’s try to get some sleep.”

“Okay.”

“Oh, and if you see Callie and Marie again, tell them that I will have my revenge.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

 

That morning, word got out that rehearsal for the Squid Sisters’ upcoming concert tour was delayed due to some of the staff and the Squid Sisters themselves suffering from “split sides.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was tricky for me to write. It's a bit short but I had a lot of fun writing it so I hope you have a lot of fun reading it.
> 
> So now Pearl has a better idea what's going on but things are obviously building up and it's clear that even after learning so much about Marina's background and about octarians in the Octo Expansion, she doesn't know Marina and Eight as well as she thought.


	11. Throbbing Between Legs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Four is seen off and Eight meets a girl's best friend.

“You didn’t have to see me off,” Four said, trying not to blush.

 

She stood on the platform with her luggage, waiting for the train. She was going home for the weekend, her first time back to the country town of Little Reef in over three months and her first time back since moving to Inkopolis.

 

“I didn’t have anything better to do and I couldn’t sleep anyway. Besides, I remember what it was like for me going back home to the country for the first time since coming to inkopolis. There’s always a little trepidation.”

 

“Yeah but… aren’t you afraid someone here will recognize you?”

 

Marie was wearing the dark kimono and carrying the parasol she had when Four had first met her. Seeing her go from such a modest and reserved outfit to her idol attire for the first time had been a bigger shock to her than anything Octavio had managed. The more conservative garment did nothing, however, to diminish Marie’s exquisite beauty.

 

Marie smiled and caressed Four’s cheek. “I used to hang out looking like this in Inkopolis Square, of all places. Nobody recognized me then and I doubt anyone will now. Even if they do, I have backup.” She gestured over her shoulder with her head and Four peered around her to a dark corner of the platform where Three waited. 

 

She wore a black and white jacket, evoking the white and black warning stripes of many deadly sea creatures of past and present. She wasn’t looking in their direction, but instead watched everyone else on the platform, as if daring one of them to approach her charge.

 

_ ‘So cool,’ _ Four thought. “She looks like a bodyguard.”

 

Marie grinned. “She is. She’s mine and Callie’s bodyguard, unofficially.”

 

Four stared at her disbelievingly. “Since when did you need a bodyguard?”

 

“Since we became stupid famous and rich and decided we needed someone else around to watch our backs. If Octarians attack, I can shoot them, but it’s a little more complicated when you’re dealing with certain members of the public. Plus, it gives her the excuse to be seen around us. That said, it’s still not something we’re spreading around and it’s not a regular thing; just when we need her. She’s legally old enough now.”

 

“And scary enough that people won’t dare ask if she’s good enough for you,” Four grinned. 

 

“Someone will be dumb enough,” Marie assured her. “But enough about that, I’m here about you, remember? You have your dress?” Four pursed her lips and nodded to the suitcase on the floor by her feet.

 

“I know the dance is kind of a big deal back home but not so much that you had to buy me such a nice and expensive dress.”

 

Marie giggled. “I know, but that whole thing with Eight and about appearances got me thinking and I decided I wanted you to be the prettiest thing at that hokey dance.” She played with the bulb of one of Four’s short tentacles, bouncing on the tips of her fingers. “I know you weren’t exactly on the top of the social ladder back home so I want you to show up all those other girls. See if you can nab yourself a boyfriend or two.”

 

Four blushed. “Two? I dunno, Pa always said he couldn’t understand why any guys would want the trouble of two girlfriends. Two boyfriends have to be even worse.”

 

Marie laughed. “Boy, has Callie got some stories to tell you.”

 

They looked to the other end of the platform where the train was just pulling in. Four wished, for once, that it could have been late. The train stopped and passengers began to pour out.

 

“Well, I guess it’s time for you to go.”

 

Four nodded and looked up at the inkyora who had become the big sister she never had. “I’ll miss you.” 

 

Marie smiled and cupped her face in her hands. “Don’t get all sappy now. You’ll be back soon, right? You promised to come to one of our concerts.”

 

“And you promised me a backstage pass.”

 

“A promise I’ll keep if you keep yours.” Marie kissed Four on the top of the head and the younger inkling’s mantle turned a yellow so bright and vibrant it would shame the sun. “We’ll see you soon. Be good to your mother.”

 

“I will.” Four kept her head down to try and hide her blushing face from the unsuspecting public around them and boarded her train.

 

Marie watched the train depart. She stayed on the platform until it vanished around the bend.

 

Agent Three walked up to her, looking smug. Her mantle turned completely pink except for her spots, which turned white, prompting Marie to roll her eyes.

 

“Even wearing this, I look too young to be anyone’s mother.” Three lightly patted Marie’s hip with the back of her hand and Marie huffed, opening her parasol. “Sometimes, Three, you talk too much.” Three just kept grinning and followed her charge out of the station.

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

It was a bit strange for Eight, seeing the reflection she cast in the mirror. It felt like another life when she had last worn her synthleather uniform. It was a tad more snug than Eight remembered, but it still fit comfortably, and the familiarity of the outfit was like that of an old friend. Still, it seemed like something odd for Three to recommend wearing to an inkling event.

 

Eight grabbed her boots, modified by her own hands to be high-heeled and more stylish. She was actually quite proud of them and happy to have an opportunity to wear them here on the surface. She carried them to the door where she found Marina waiting, fidgeting with barely contained excitement.

 

Marina wore a black leather jacket over a maroon vest with a gap on the front crisscrossed by thick black chords. Her ensemble was completed by a pair of black leather pants and high black boots. Unlike Eight’s they were flat.

 

“Ready to go?” Marina asked excitedly. “I’ve already got my baby all ready to go: oiled, checked and polished.” Eight barely got her boots on before Marina grabbed her hand and hauled her out the door.

 

“It’s been so long since I had a chance to go out and do something fun,” Marina said as they rode the elevator down. “Pearl and I have gotten so well known recently that we sometimes can’t go anywhere without getting swarmed by fans. We do have a few hangout spots but it does kind of make it hard to see the city or enjoy events when you’re busy signing autographs.”

 

Eight nodded slowly. “So, how do you plan to avoid that this time?”

 

“Well, usually, I’m with Pearl, so that usually spoils my camouflage right away.” Marina grinned mischievously. “But, there’s something we octolings can do that most inklings can’t.” At once, Marina’s very skin lightened tremendously in tone, almost as pale as Pearl’s. To add to it, she changed her tentacles to a dark yellow colour. In less than a second and with very little effort, Marina looked like a whole different person.

 

“Won’t the guard see you and wonder who you are?”

 

“The guards are focused on who’s coming in, not as much who’s going out. It’ll be fine.”

 

The elevator reached level B2 and then the doors parted. Unlike the rest of the building, there was nothing elaborate or fancy about the underground parking garage except the automatic doors. Every suite had one parking space and one container next to it that could act as a little garage, repair or storage shed. Eight had only been down here once before but she had yet to see Marina’s pride and joy. That was about to change.

 

It had been in the container last time Eight had come down. Now, it sat in the parking space next to it, polished and gleaming the in yellow lights. Metallic black and chrome it was an awesome thing to behold and it was known to everyone how much Marina cherished it. Even after only two-weeks, Eight knew it was Marina’s prized possession.

 

Eight stood to the side as Marina straddled her steed and pushed a small silver button on the handle bars. The bike wheezed and then began to rumble in a way that filled the parking garage. It was much deeper and throatier than any engine she had heard before, even the trucks Eight had seen on the roads hadn’t had the deep bass this little vehicle had. Marina gave it a quick once-over and then invited Eight over. 

 

Eight had never ridden on anything like this before. She had heard that some officers had bicycles and some were able to commandeer the increasingly rare saucers. Octarians had few vehicles made for octolings. Most were mobility multipliers for the lesser classes like octocopters and such. There were the small hover platforms but they were painfully slow things and made more as mobile guns than anything else. Outside of the military were slow moving construction and transport vehicles. Eight hadn’t seen or ridden a motorbike before but she knew it was none of those things.

 

Eight awkwardly lifted one leg over and sat on the back half of the seat. She found the pegs for her feet to rest and then gently wrapped her arms around Marina’s waist. The way the bike throbbed between her legs with each revolution of its burbling engine really set it apart from riding in a car. “What do I do?”

 

“Just lean as I lean and try not to move too much. I have a license but I’m a bit out of practice. Do you have our coordinates?”

 

Eight pulled out her phone and checked map displayed on screen. “Yes. Three’s already there and has confirmed the event is taking place.”

 

“Well, I don’t want to miss anything, so let’s get going.” Marina grabbed a pair of goggles dangling from the handlebars and slipped them on. “You’re navigating.”

 

“Yes ma’am.”

 

Marina grabbed the handlebars and twisted the right handle, reving the engine a few times before her foot hit something on the other side of the motorcycle and then Eight’s stomach tightened as they began to move, relying entirely on their own balance to keep upright. Marina had explained the principal to her earlier but Eight’s mind still struggled to accept that two wheels were enough to keep the vehicle stable. 

 

Marina roared up the slope leading out of the parking garage and turned onto the street. “Turn right,” Eight instructed. Marina did so, and Eight squeaked and shut her eyes tight as the entire vehicle leaned over but somehow did not fall. Then, miraculously, it went back upright, as if by some unseen force.

 

Eight managed to open her eyes, watching as they roared past fast moving fence posts towards the ring road that surrounded Inkopolis Square. She felt one of Marina’s back tentacles rub her head gently.

 

“Stay with me, little sister. We’ve got a long way to go yet.”

 

Eight swallowed a wave of embarrassment and stared at her phone screen again. “Take the ring road West, and then take exit 5B.”

 

“Ring road, West, exit 5B, understood.”

 

Eight took a deep breath and forced herself to calm down. She had done scarier things, hadn’t she? Riding what was basically a two-wheeled missile through heavy traffic was nothing compared to fighting an ancient AI bent on destruction.

 

_ ‘Three is scarier.’ _ She decided, and she intended to become friends with Three. So maybe, just like with Three, she’d be less afraid of this if she got to know it better. Well, she had twenty to thirty minutes as navigator to do just that.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Three was relieved when Eight texted that she and Marina were just getting ready to leave. Eight had been in the middle of changing when Three had texted her. She put her phone away and returned her attention to the goings on in front of her.

 

Hani and her group of octolings had been there when Three had arrived, as had about a dozen others with their vehicles, but now there was an almost constant stream of newcomers and the parking lot was rapidly filling up.

 

Three suddenly whirled around and grabbed something, bringing her right fist up ready to strike- and she stopped. It was Katrina, but she looked only mildly surprised by Three’s reaction.

 

“Remind me not to sneak up on you,” she said, a hint of amusement in her voice. Three released her and flashed apology but Katrina waved her off. “Do you always have to apologize for such little things or just since that match the other day.”

 

Three flinched but she shouldn’t have been surprised. Why wouldn’t have Katrina used the power of the web to look her up as she had her father? She released Katrina and settled back down. 

 

“I said before, I have no right to judge your father.”

 

Katrina raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t look him up?”

 

“I did.”

 

Katrina eyed her with suspicion but any further words were stopped by the arrival of Silvia behind her.

 

“Well, I see you came back. Of your own free will this time, hm?”

 

Three bowed her head. “Yes, I’ve come back, Auntie Silvia.” Silvia looked surprised.

 

“So, they actually told you about me.”

 

“No, Iya just said I should call you that. She’s the only one who knows about… this,” she gestured to the gathering around them. “I never actually mentioned you, but she told me that anyway.”

 

Silvia chuckled. “Well, Purdie’s always had good intuition. She might not have been a racer herself but she was a good girl to have around. I was there when she and your mother first met, and she was the one who found your father.”

 

“You must have been close to them to at one point for Iya to ask me to call you ‘auntie.’”

 

“At one point,” Silvie admitted. “I was there for Fulvia and Purdie’s bonding ceremony, I was there when they married your father, I was there for your reveal.” She sighed. “But after she… well, Purdie and I were only associated through Fulvia, and Dekin didn’t want anything to do with our crowd. Things were… pretty rough on the streets before you were hatched.”

 

“And Dad’s the reason they aren’t as bad as they used to be,” Katrina bit.

 

“You’ve already put yourself on thin ice by now today, Katrina. Don’t push yourself through it.” She looked back at Three. “We sorta just, drifted apart, but your mom and I were close; not soul mates or anything, but close enough.” She grinned and rubbed Katrina on the head. “You and her used to play together when you were little.”

 

“But Dad and Iya didn’t want you influencing me into joining the world Mama tried to leave.” Three scratched her head. “But Iya still didn’t try to stop me when I found out.”

 

Silvia laughed. “At your age, what’s the point; especially if you’re Fulvia’s daughter. You’re at your most rebellious around now.” She pressed down harder on Katrina, forcing her to bend at the knees. “Trust me, I know.”

 

“Well, who do you think I get it from?” Katrina hissed.

 

“If you were rebellious to everyone I’d say it was me, but you’re only rebellious with me and people outside the family. The second your father shows up you hide your horns under a halo, so that you get from him.”

 

“Oh, is this yet another lead-in to a rant about how he somehow deceived you into making that little bet in the first place?”

 

“Katrina, I swear-.”

 

“Stop.” 

 

Three’s voice was not raised above normal speaking levels, but her tone was uncompromisingly direct and commanding. It cut right through the background noise and the other two inklings looked at her as she glared into each of their eyes, and then spoke again.

 

“My friends will be here soon; I’m going to go greet them. We’ll talk again later.” She bowed her head to Silvia. “Matron.” Then she left, leaving the mother daughter pair mildly stunned and staring at her back, suddenly forgetting what they had been arguing about in the first place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I loved writing the scene between Four and Marie. I really do think they would have developed a strong fondness for each other.
> 
> The title is actually a Top Gear reference I couldn't resist putting in, but I thought it appropriate, heh heh. I realize this chapter's a bit short so I'll try to upload the next chapter sooner.


	12. Making New Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eight and Marina make new friends, and Three learns more about her Mother.

Eight heard the meet before she saw it. The sun was behind the mountain and most of the sky was in twilight, but there was still enough light that the street lamps hadn’t turned on yet. Even so, the thumping beats and roaring of internal combustion could be heard echoing off the mountain and before they rounded the bend. The first thing that Eight wondered when it came into view was if this was what splatfest looked like.

 

Lights of almost every colour seemed to glow in the parking lot. Crowds moved among rows and rows of personal vehicles of every type, and Eight quickly concluded that “car meet” obviously meant more than just cars. Marina found a row of parked motorcycles and squeezed into a space, but they were lined up tight and it was tough to get off without bumping into the other bikes.

 

“Hey, nice ride.” An inkyar in black leather said. “That’s a new Black Jagger, right?” Even from behind her, Eight could see Marina’s smile beaming.

 

“Yes! I ordered it just like this from the factory. The chrome package was a lot extra but it just looks so good I couldn’t leave it.”

 

“Ha ha, I know how you feel. I had one of the old v46 models and I wish I’d splurged a little on the chrome package. Hey, you been coming to these long? I’m pretty regular and I can’t say I’ve seen you before.”

 

“Oh, this is my first time. A friend invited me.”

 

“Well, hopefully, you’ll have even more friends before the night is done. Come on, I’ll introduce you to some of the gang.”

 

Eight smiled as Marina eagerly followed. Three had been right about bringing her along. The very second they arrived they were already made to feel welcome and Marina was able to boast about her “baby.” Actually, looking at the other motorcycle owners and their attire, Eight thought she understood why Three recommended she come in her old uniform.

 

_ ‘We just arrived. Parked among the motorcycles.’  _ She sent the text off to Three and then caught up to Marina just a short distance away. It was while Marina happily recited the specifications of her motorcycle to their new friends that Three arrived.

 

She had changed her mantle to a medium brown but Eight still recognized her instantly. She wore a black tank top, a black skirt, and her usual dark sneakers, but she also wore a pair of long green socks that went up just above her knees. That outfit combined with Three’s quiet but firm confidence was more than enough to take Eight’s breath away. She had thought Three was the coolest squid there was but this- this was something else.

 

Eight managed a small wave and Three returned the gesture. She looked at Marina and a knowing smile showed itself on her face. Eight found herself smiling too. Somehow, seeing Three so pleased made her happy too. Marina soon noticed Three as well and managed to politely excuse herself to follow her.

 

“Do you go by ‘Maiya’ when you’re out in public?” Eight asked. Three nodded and Marina clapped.

 

“That’s such a cute name. Thanks for inviting me out here, Maiya. This is amazing! So many different machines everywhere, and a lot of them look modified. I’m not even sure where to go from here.” 

 

Three answered her question by pointing straight ahead, where there was a cluster of small vans and three beat up cars that looked quite rough and rusted. Some of the exterior panels didn’t match either. Most notably; however, was that the people surrounding them were almost all octolings.

 

One of them caught sight of their approach and waved. “Hey, Maiya, nice to see you again.” Three lifted a hand in return and then the octoling bounded up to her on the tips of her toes. Despite being taller and older than Three, the light-purple tentacled octoling looked like a wide-eyed cadet being introduced to her weapons for the first time. “Have they released the latest keychain set yet?” Three shook her head and Eight had no idea what they were talking about.

 

The octoling peered around Three at Eight and Marina, who waved with an awkward smile. “Oh, bright life to you,” she said in Octese. “You’re new around here.”

 

“We are,” Marina admitted. “I’m Coralie. Maiya invited us here to check things out. This is Eight.”

 

“I am Hani. I’m the leader of this particular group. Matron Silvia has done much to make our kind feel welcome. Ah, Silvia is her first name. Although it is typically improper, she dislikes being referred to by her surname, so Matron Silvia is appropriate in her presence.”

 

“Oh, thanks for that,” Marina said. “I haven't met many matrons myself so I’m a bit unsure of the protocols.”

 

Eight was even more confused. What was a matron? What protocols? Was there some critical information she was missing?

 

“Do you like cars?” Hani asked.

 

“I love machines!” Marina’s passionate reply only caught the other octolings slightly off guard.

 

“Then let us share with you what we’ve done. Inkopolis is amazing! Even if you start from nothing you can still build up to something!”

 

Marina smiled brightly, a sage-like look in her eyes. “Yes, you’re absolutely right.”

 

That wise old look quickly turned to childish delight and wonder as Hani and the others began to show off their tired-looking vehicles. Still better than what anyone could expect back in Octo Valley or Octo Canyon, but next to many of the other vehicles in the parking lot, they looked like something from a scrap pile. Still, Eight could understand their pride and none of the inklings that passed by regarded them with any derision.

 

“Hey, you want to see what we’ve done?” A dusty pink octoling asked her. She beckoned her over to the trio of vans opposite the three cobbled together race cars. They looked to be in much better condition, on the outside at least, but they seemed out of place in a lot full of fast-looking, heavily-modified cars and gleaming motorbikes.

 

“I’m Sara. This is my van.” She gestured to the tall blue vehicle, battered and bruised from a long and hard life but still sound looking. “It’s going to become my home once I finish modifying it.”

 

“You’re home?”

 

“Yes! For cheaper than an apartment or house or condominium, you can buy an old van and modify it to your needs.” She opened the sliding door on the side of the van and revealed a lattice of thin wooden boards framing sheets of silvery fabric and pink foam.

 

“Once I finish installing all the insulation and wiring I’ll be able to start covering it all up and making it much prettier. A lot of the people here have neat ideas for making these into homes. Some of them own recreational vehicles that are basically motorized homes, so they’ve given us a lot of advice for how we should modify our vans, and they even gave us tours of their vehicles.”

 

Sara went on explaining the planned modifications for her van to make it into her semi-permanent home. Marina joined halfway through and was there for the complete tour of the other vans. There was a brief heart-stopping moment when they saw that one of the vans had an Off the Hook poster inside, but nothing seemed to come of it, much to their relief.

 

As they were looking at the last van, another octoling gently tapped Eight on the shoulder and then pointed down at her feet. “Say, did you make those boots?”

 

Eight paused and then stared down. “Oh, yes. They’re the standard issue boots, at least they were in my sector. I added the new soles and the heels myself and polished them up over time.”

 

“That’s amazing. Were you in crafting or engineering?”

 

“I was supposed to be in crafting, but my entire intake got drafted to fight. It turned out to be a blessing in disguise since we all got to hear the inkantation that way.”

 

“And thank all those in heaven for it.”

 

Eight nodded, but that made her wonder where Three had gone off to. She started to look around but her new companion wasn’t finished yet.

 

“This uniform is getting too small for you.” She traced the line of Eight’s hip where it went above her tight shorts. “Looks like you’ve been wearing it since the inkantation.”

 

“I have,” Eight admitted. “But I can still wear it. It only looks tight because I’ve filled out since coming here.”

 

“We all have a little bit, but at least in the army we didn’t have to worry about providing for ourselves. I’d never want to go back but... life is a bit less predictable, here on the surface. I guess that’s what makes me nervous the most.”

 

Eight felt a stab of guilt. From the moment she came to Inkopolis, she had been provided for with a roof over her head, all the food she could eat, and she lived in luxury, even by inkling standards. Her fellow octolings were not so fortunate. They had to start from virtually nothing. It was no wonder some of them might miss the security of the routine they had back in the army. Even if they went a day or two without food, they knew that more would come eventually. They knew how things worked underground: the dangers, the simple joys, and the kind of things they would likely experience in life. On the surface, where things were more chaotic, almost nothing was guaranteed.

 

“Are you doing alright now?”

 

The other octoling shrugged. “I’m getting by. Things are improving little by little.” She smiled. “The inklings are much friendlier than we were made to believe.”

 

Eight smiled back. “Yes, yes they are. Speaking of which, there’s one I need to find. Please excuse me.” Eight stepped away and began searching around for Three.

 

She didn’t have to look far. Three was standing just a couple meters away from the group, arms crossed as she looked around. She didn’t look on edge but certainly wary. It took a moment for it to click in Eight’s mind as to why.

 

She slid up next to Three, the inkling giving her a curious look, as if wondering what she was doing, and then Eight leaned in closer to whisper in Three’s pointed ear. “Are you worried they’ll recognize you?”

 

Three’s mantle turned from brown to depressing blue and then it flashed green for the briefest of moments before going back to brown. She shrugged ended with a shrug and Eight was at least able to understand that.

 

“Don’t worry. The last thing they’ll expect is the Green Demon hanging out at a gathering like this.” Three raised an eyebrow and Eight could see the questioning look in her eyes. “Green Demon is just what some people in the army started calling you based on reports from survivors. Helping out with administration and grunt work is normal for cadets so I heard and read a lot of those reports. They described an inkling cold as ice and merciless as death.” Eight clasped her hands behind her back and looked away shyly. “So maybe, you would be less likely to get found out if you weren’t standing her by yourself looking so serious? Maybe you could hang out closer with Marina and me?”

 

She glanced back without turning her head, and Three met her eyes. Those crimson orbs still made Eight shudder inwardly whenever she found herself staring back into them, as if they could peel apart the layers of her soul so see what lay beneath.

 

Eight looked away and wondered if perhaps she had gone too far. She had mentioned the Green Demon moniker to Three because she hoped it would highlight how unlikely it was that Three would be recognized, assuming she behaved casually. Still, perhaps it was too presumptuous of her to speak that way to Three. Four was one thing, Eight felt comfortable talking with Four, but Three-.”

 

Eight’s entire body froze as coarse fingers grasped hers. She looked down at her left hand and then up at Three, but she was staring ahead, her face as impassive as stone. She looked back down at her hand and slowly wrapped her fingers around Three’s.

 

“Don’t worry. I’ll run interference for you as much as you need. The last thing they’ll expect is for you to have a couple of octolings as friendd.” Three said nothing but she gave Eight’s hand a tiny squeeze, an action with elicited the tiniest flutter in Eight’s chest. “Come on, let’s get back to them.”

 

Three did seem to noticeably lighten up. Hani and her group weren’t bothered by her presence at all and seemed to consider her some kind of comrade thanks to her large Squid Sisters keychain collection. Eight wondered if Three actually collected them or if Callie and Marie simply gave them to her all the time and they piled up.

 

Eventually, Hani suggested they move on and see what else there was to see at the meet. Three let them pick where else to go and they wound up at a group of different vehicles with sound systems that could only be described as outrageous. They literally occupied any space that wasn’t used by the driver with equipment dedicated to blasting music. The absurdity of it was so stereotypically inkling that Eight almost laughed out loud.

 

Marina drooled at the mere sight of them and began an immediate and very exhilarated conversation with their creators. Their shock at Marina’s enthusiasm and technical knowledge made Eight giggle and even Three seemed to smirk at the scene.

 

While Marina chatted up a storm, Eight was subjected to more queries about her attire, this time from inklings who complimented her on her “sassy gear.” Eight wasn’t sure what that meant but it seemed to be a compliment so she took it in stride as best she could. Still, she wasn’t used to getting so much attention. It was enough to make her anxious.

 

Three positioned herself not quite between Eight and the inquirers, but enough that she could act as something of a bulwark. Even then, she hadn’t once let go of Eight’s hand. Three was certainly more assertive when dealing with her own kind.

 

There was a loud ringing noise, like a bell being rung. The buzz of conversation quickly died down and the blasting music ceased. All eyes turned to the roof of a tall vehicle where a dark-green inkyar stood with a megaphone in his hand.

 

“Alright, everyone. We’re about to head up the touge for our runs. Remember, grip racers go first and nobody goes running until we get our spotters in place. Spectators, make sure you stay on the inside of the corner, not the outside. Now, we have Acolyte Kelpgarden to lead us in prayer for a good, safe night’s running.”

 

Another figure appeared on the roof. An inkling about in her late teens with long mustard-yellow tentacles. Her clothes were a robed green and blue tunic under a white skirt that went just below her knees. She looked similar to the temple maidens she had known in Octo Valley. She didn’t know what an acolyte was but if she was leading everyone in prayer then she had to serve a similar purpose to the Templarchy in octoling society.

 

Everyone around her bowed their heads, including Three, and Eight did the same. How long had it been since she had been ministered to? If she remembered correctly, it was when she and her entire intake was being sent out to fight the girl whose hand she was currently holding. She had prayed many times alone the past two years and the gods had answered her prayers, because here she stood, but there was something so much more powerful about praying in a group.

 

The acolyte spoke but Eight found her dialect a bit difficult to understand, only managing to comprehend the gist of what she was saying through bits and pieces she could decipher. When she had finished, the crowd answered: “so let it be,” and began to disperse.

 

Eight, Marina, and Three stood in place. Eight had no idea what was happening and neither did Marina. She was about to ask Three if she knew when Hani ran up to them.

 

“Hey, you girls wanna ride along with us up and down the touge? We’re about to go racing.”

 

Marina gasped. “We can come with you?”

 

“Yes, we have passenger seats. Don’t worry about slowing us down. We’re usually near the back of the line anyway.”

 

“I’d love to come!” Marina stood on tiptoes, eyes brimming with excitement. “Come on, Eight, let’s go!”

 

Eight wasn’t sure what to expect. She’d never seen or heard of cars racing before. Back in the army, cockroach racing was the most common form. Racing vehicles would have been a prohibitive waste of resources. Even so, here she was being offered yet another new and surely enriching experience, but it was from a fellow octoling!

 

“I would love to come!”

 

“You can come too, Maiya,” Hani offered, but Three smiled and shook her head, gently letting go of Eight’s hand.

 

Eight felt her spirits take a sudden dive, dragging her hearts down with them. Suddenly, without Three’s hand, her own felt cold and alone. Why? Tonight was the first time they had ever held hands, this was normal. Why did she feel this way?

 

Three gave her a gentle push and Hani grabbed the hand Three hadn’t been holding, leading her and Marina away towards their beat-up old cars. Eight looked behind them and saw Three smile and wave. She managed to wave back, but it felt more like an automatic response than something conscious.

 

Eight looked back ahead and shook herself a little. She was being silly. It was just a product of her desire to get closer to and become friends with Three. Did holding hands mean they were close or were they already there? Did it have a different meaning to inklings than it did to octolings? Did it actually matter?

 

_ No, it doesn’t matter. Three and I are becoming friends and that’s what I wanted. If we can start hanging out normally and maybe if we can start actually talking, then, then we’ll be alright. We’ll be more than comrades; we’ll be friends. Then… then maybe the nightmares will finally stop. _

  
  


It was a bittersweet moment as Three watched the three jalopies rattle out of the parking lot and up the mountain road. She was glad Eight and Marina were getting the chance to do something fun, but on the other hand they were doing something already considered dangerous in vehicles that would be considered dangerous standing still. She said a small, quiet prayer to herself for their safety and then turned around as she sensed someone approach.

 

Gyari smiled at her, his hands in the pockets of his jacket as he walked up. “Making friends, are you?” Three felt a small bubble of animosity rise within her but she quashed it. She had no quarrel with him, at least not now. There was no reason to act hostile. He walked up beside her and watched the line of cars snake up the mountain. 

 

“You know,” he said. “Things have gotten a lot more exciting and interesting around here since octolings started showing up. It’s given everyone a good swift kick in the motivation. Feels like some of the romance is back.” Three thought about making a quip of him taking all the romance himself but decided against it.

 

“I assume Silvia told you about your mother.” Three flashed green with acknowledgement. “She was a really good racer. Thinking of following in her footsteps?” Three flashed red. “I see, that’s too bad. I was really looking forward to seeing that car carving up and down the mountain again.”

 

Three looked at him questioningly. “What car?” She doubted he was talking about the family sedan. He looked as questioning as she did.

 

“You can’t tell me your mom got rid of it; she loved that car. I know she’s not around anymore but I can’t imagine Purdie could have gotten rid of it either. Too many memories there I think. I thought she would have given it to you as some kind of inheritance.”

 

“Inheritance…” Three hadn’t thought of that. What would there have been for her to inherit after all? But why was he so interested in this.

 

“Have you been getting along with Katrina?” He asked suddenly.

 

Three’s train of thought derailed and she was forced to reassemble her thoughts before she answered. “I think so. She doesn’t seem to get along with her mother though.”

 

He laughed. “That’s old news. I don’t claim to run the most functional family and I know it’s tough for her being caught between me and Silvia. She still loves her mother though and Silvie is very protective of her, not that she really needs protection.”

 

Three hummed. “I should go find her. I think she wanted to talk to me.”

 

“Wow, she must really like you then. She’s not usually the type to go out of her way to talk to people. I know she might not seem like it but she’s a nice girl once you get to know her, and a good daughter.”

 

Three found herself smiling. “I see. You and your daughter are much alike.”

 

Gyari laughed again. “So Silvia keeps telling me. Anyway, it’s best not to keep her waiting so you better get going. I have to go too. I have to keep an eye on them.” He gave her a small wave with two fingers and headed towards a dark-green two-door car waiting near the road. Three watched him go until it too cruised up the mountain road, and then she turned around, coming face to face with Katrina.

 

“So?” Katrina asked.

 

“So what?”

 

“Well, obviously you’re comparing Dad with what you know about him from your research, right?”

 

Three frowned. “I already said I have no personal gripe with your father. I’m sure most inklings would consider him a modern symbol of masculinity. I have no particular reason to dislike him.”

 

Katrina crossed her arms. “Are you sure? You’re the first girl from outside I’ve met so far who didn’t want to claw his eyes out when they found out.”

 

Three frowned. “From outside?”

 

“I mean someone who wasn’t brought up in the car community.” She gestured to the gathering around them. Despite the departure of so many up the mountain, there were still at least a hundred individuals remaining. “And I’m only talking about inklings. The other species don’t count. The octolings practically turned to horny goo when they learned the story.”

 

Three shrugged. “Well, aren’t you proud of how strong your father is? The whole point of the  _ yun’rai-ka  _ is to find a strong male. Your mother found one.”

 

Katrina’s smirk returned. “And she’s been butthurt about it ever since.”

 

“And your iya are or were all prideful.”

 

“Very!” Katrina stuffed her hands into the pouch pocket of her hoodie and scowled. “They think they’re all that. They all acted like he cheated or robbed them or something when he won. Beat them at their own game is what he did and he’s a way better husband than any of them deserve-, wait, why do you even care about the family issues if you’re not mad at my dad?”

 

“Because your father seemed awfully interested in mine. He seems eager for me to join this community and start driving up and down the mountains like my mother did. He seems to have known her somewhat.”

 

Katrina stared at her. “Somewhat? Don’t you know who your mother was?” Three stared back, somewhat bewildered and Katrina groaned. “I can’t believe they never told you or you didn’t find out. Fulvia was one of the ones that got away, that Dad couldn’t beat. She was one of the Mountain Queens.”

 

Three felt like she had just received a punch to the gut. Finding out her mother had been a street racer had been a surprise by itself but being told she was the leader of a driving gang and was actually a part of Gyari Trailmaker’s infamous story was total shock. She didn’t bother thinking about why she had never been told. It was pretty obvious, but that still didn’t explain Gyari’s interest in her, not entirely.

 

“So… I’m the daughter of someone he lost to, lost a  _ yun’rai-ka  _ to. Is it just for nostalgic reasons that he’s interested in my future?”

 

Katrina shrugged. “Heck if I know. Mom told me not to talk to him about you.”

 

“But she must have told you about my mother at some point for you to know so much about her.”

 

“Well they were friends so she often came up when Mom talked about the old days. Most of the other queens are her fellow wives, but they were mostly rivals.”

 

Three winced sympathetically. “None of them are bonded?”

 

“Bonded over the fact that they all seem to hate Dad’s guts. You can imagine what home life is like for me.”

 

“I’m sure it’s uncomfortable at times, but they can’t hate him as much as you think or else they wouldn’t have given him six children.”

 

“One each,” Katrina pointed out. “They got their minimum obligation out of the way.” She snorted. “And they wonder why he flirts with other females.”

 

Three thought she was starting to understand Katrina a little. What must it be like to live in a home with so much animosity? Being crushed between her own mother, her iyae, and her father. She had siblings too but as the only female, carrying on the family legacy and name was her duty. On top of that pressure, she had a feeling that “Princess” Katrina was Daddy’s favourite, which would only create more issues in the family.

 

“Is there… a place more private we can talk?” Three asked.

 

Katrina frowned and her cheeks coloured slightly. “I- I don’t really wanna talk about it.”

 

“Yes you do.” Three said. “If you really didn’t want to talk about it you wouldn’t have told me so much already. I’m not trying to pry, but it does seem like there’s a lot you want to get off your chest. I’m someone you don’t have to worry about keeping appearances in front of.”

 

Katrina’s eyes narrowed into slits. “Keeping up appearances? What’s that supposed to mean. I don’t care what anyone thinks of me.”

 

“But you do care what people think of your father and you wouldn’t want to do anything to make him look bad; otherwise, you wouldn’t have cared so much about what I thought of him. You want other people to tell you that he’s good or that he isn’t someone you need to think badly of.”

 

“How would you know?” Katrina asked in a low, throaty voice. Three responded with a tone of deliberate calm and patience.

 

“I’ll tell you in private.”

 

Katrina grunted but gestured for her to follow, leading her through the rows of cars and crowd towards the RV. Inside, it was pretty clean, despite its age, but there were no interior lights on, making it dark except for the illumination coming in through the small windows.

 

“This private enough?” She asked curtly. Three flashed green to say “yes” and then answered Katrina’s earlier question.

 

“When I was young, not long after my mother died, I was feeling the same sort of thing. My Dad has never been the strongest, most masculine, or the smartest, but he was kind and hard working. He helps a lot of people in the neighbourhood, even when he’s exhausted from work. Iya still bothers him about it, especially as he’s getting older, but even back then, people thought he was weak because he always seemed exhausted.”

 

Three found the bench seat on one side of the kitchen table and sat. “I would go to school and I would hear gossip about my father being too weak to raise our family.”

 

Katrina sat opposite her and stared. “I thought in good communities everyone would come around and help out the family that just suffered a loss like that. Isn’t a shoal supposed to look after its own like that?”

 

“Dad was part of a shoal from back home but that was out in the country. I remember Iya talking to him about moving to his hometown so that we could have their support. I remember how hurt she sounded. She said things about not understanding why everyone around them was being so heartless and critical.

 

“After that, all I wanted was to hear someone saying how great my dad was, what a good father he was, and a good husband. I believed those things but I wanted to know others believed them too. I wanted to know I was right to believe those things.”

 

Katrina waited for a moment and then asked, “Well, did you?”

 

Three smiled. “The local matron came in with a priestess, ashamed of her shoal and with the priestess’ help, straightened them out. They all like us now and Dad helps them all out a lot, so there’s no hard feelings and everyone’s happy.”

 

“Never did know a priestess I didn’t like,” Katrina mused. “I guess you can sorta understand what I’ve been going through.”

 

“It’s tougher when it’s your own family saying the bad things,” Three admitted. “But, I haven’t heard anyone around him say anything but great things about him. People seem to look up to him as a leader. I’m actually surprised he wasn’t given a purple scarf instead of your mother and made a patron.”

 

“He deserves to be,” Katrina groused, “but, I don’t think he’d want to be one anyway. It’s not really his thing. They chose Mom because they thought she was the best wife.” That made Three grimace. It certainly didn’t imply a healthy relationship with the rest of his spouses if Silvia was his best wife.

 

“And your brothers?”

 

“Eh,” Katrina shrugged. “They’re okay, I guess. It’s pretty much like normal brothers and sister with us and they get along with Dad okay. One of them is even in college to become a mechanical engineer.”

 

“Impressive.”

 

“Sure it is, but it’s never good enough for my iyae. Dad just can’t please them. It drives me crazy.” She sighed heavily. “And then I come here and people tell me how great they all are, how they were some of the best drivers in the world and how happy they must be to have landed a mate like Dad.”

 

“I still don’t understand why they’re so bitter. If they issued a  _ yun’rai-ka,  _ isn’t this what they wanted?”

 

Katrina shrugged. “I don’t know. I know Dad didn’t cheat- he couldn't have, but they all seem convinced that they shouldn’t have lost.”

 

“Maybe it’s just that six wives are too many?”

 

“They probably just didn’t expect to have to share the same guy with so many others. They were and still are rivals after all. Look, maybe it would have worked better with people who were better brought up, like you, but they… we aren’t exactly from the most reputable part of Inkopolis. We’re pretty much the worst inkling society has to offer outside of jail.”

 

“If you’re the worst then I think our species has a bright future.” Three said with a big smile. “I guess we have more in common than I thought. I used to never think much of who I was or where I was from either.”

 

“I guess so,” Katrina said. “But what changed?”

 

“I… found purpose, I guess. I also met people who came from a totally different place than I did. They got me to hang out places other than at home. Maybe you should get out more and do you do other things?  Do you hang out with other people? It must be suffocating having to be the ‘princess’ all the time.”

 

Katrina humphed. “Everyone I know is part of the car scene and that goes for dating too. I bet that was your mom’s attitude and why she married someone way outside the scene.”

 

Three shrugged sympathetically. It wasn’t as if she knew anything about romance and love. She could easily have imagined herself in Katrina’s shoes however. Agent work and turf war had been a borderline obsession. Knowing what was at stake, how could she not put her all into protecting Inkopolis and keeping her skills sharp? However, Callie and Marie had made certain she never fell into the pit that Katrina was stuck in. Going out for meals with them, acting as their bodyguard, and going to their concerts had been enough to keep her from falling. Now, maybe she had another.

 

Three stared out the window at the gathering stars above. The light pollution this close to Inkopolis was severe but there were still plenty of lights in the sky. “Could you and your mom come to my place tonight?”

 

Katrina frowned. “I guess. I’d have to ask Mom but she’d probably be okay with it. Why though?”

 

“There’s something I want to look at and I need your mom to verify it.”

 

“Verify what?”

 

Three now looked Katrina right in the eye. “I think it might be my inheritance.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is extra-long as it was originally two chapters but I felt it worked better as one, so you get an extra-long chapter to make up for the short one last time.
> 
> I tried not to spend too much time on the details in this chapter as it would drag the story down but I think I captured the gist of what some of the Inkopolis car culture is like, at least this small part of it. This chapter also goes into more detail about Katrina's complicated home life and hints at the role an inkling Matron has in their society.


	13. The Burdens We Let Slip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Eight and Marina come back from their night out, Marina's pent up emotions cause some secrets to slip out.

It was past midnight. Pearl was in her nightgown, laying on her side on the couch, half-watching TV. She wanted to be awake when the two octolings came home so she did her best to entertain herself, which included thinking of ways to get back at the dastardly Squid Sisters.

 

The penthouse felt eerily quiet without Marina and Eight. Neither of them were big talkers but Eight had become much more chatty lately, eagerly sharing each new experience like a child coming home from a school trip. 

 

In many ways, Pearl couldn’t help but think of Eight as a child. Despite sixteen years of life, her experiences were limited and she needed guidance and protection. It reminded Pearl of her first year with Marina. Hopefully, Eight would be as quick to catch on and with two of them to watch over her, she would be alright.

 

_ And it’s not like it’s just the two of us either. _ She thought. Callie and Marie obviously cared; and Three and Four were her friends, as best she could figure. Four was undoubtedly the closer friend but Three was the one Eight was most interested in. Even if she sort of understood the reasons, she still thought Four was a better match for the quiet and reserved Eight. Then again, Four might take her in too deep before she was ready so maybe Three really was the better one to get close to first.

 

_ What am I doing? It’s not my business who Eight makes friends with. She can decide for herself. Geez, I’m starting to sound like my parents. I really need to start dating again or I’ll start forgetting how young I actually am. _

 

Pearl hadn’t been on a date in more than a year. Her last boyfriend had been a long time relationship but no matter how hard they tried it had never been more than guppy-love. It was a shame because Pearl knew he was a great guy, they just weren’t compatible romantically. It had been an amicable breakup but Pearl still sometimes yearned for his arms around her anytime she was feeling low. Despite all that, she was still somewhat reluctant to go looking for love again.

 

Whereas the majority of inkling females were at least a third larger than their male counterparts, Pearl was descended from the very smallest subspecies of squid and she herself was actually tall for an inkling of pygmy descent. Her own father was barely half her current height. With all the other species taken into account, she would, at best, be of equal height to the average male inkling once she was finished growing.

 

This was an issue because inkling males were typically most attracted to females much larger than they were. The greater disparity in height and mass between him and his significant other, the greater his prowess was perceived to be by everyone else. Maybe some of them would take into account her higher than average height for a pygmy but that wasn’t something they could determine at a glance.

 

“I don’t have a lot of free time, either,” she muttered.

 

The penthouse door opened and Pearl turned her head to watch Marina and Eight come in through the door. They looked exhausted but happy, in the way Marina had looked after her first day at Wahoo World.

 

“Well, looks like you two had a good time.”

 

Marina smiled brightly. “Oh, Pearlie, it was a great time! You won’t believe all the things that happened. There were lots of motorcycles, cars with crazy stereo systems, lots of octolings, and-.”

 

“Alright, alright.” Pearl put a hand palm out. “Just slow down, Marina.” She muted the TV. “I can’t keep up with all you’re saying.” She really was like a kid right now, standing on the tips of her toes, eyes bright and wide; and that big smile was infectious.

 

“Heh heh, sorry.” Marina sat on the couch and Pearl glanced at Eight, who didn’t look quite as excited, but her eyes still gleamed with fulfillment.

 

“Did you have fun, Eight? You were the one who was originally invited after all.”

 

Eight nodded happily. “I did. It was nice to be able to associate with other octolings. I had no idea so many made it through to Inkopolis. There were so many new experiences though.” She rubbed her forehead. “I’m still processing it all.”

 

“Oh, the last thing we did was go for a drive down the touge with some other octolings!” Marina clapped her hands. “I guess that’s why we’re so tired. It’s pretty… exhilarating. I didn’t know it was possible for cars to take turns that fast.”

 

“It really is amazing,” Eight agreed. “I didn’t think Inklings really focused much on engineering but all those cars were made and modified by inklings.”

 

“But most cars are based on designs from the Precursors,” Pearl pointed out. “Some of them, anyway. But, it looks like you girls had a great time. How was Three? Did you manage to make her come out of her shell?”

 

Eight’s expression showed uncertainty, and her tentacles twisted and curled in thought. Then, Pearl arched an eyebrow as the young octoling’s cheeks warmed blue. 

 

“Maybe…” she said very softly. “But she still seems very closed, even when she’s not with octolings. Even though there was so much fun to be had, she just kept off to the side, as if she was just spectating instead of taking part.”

 

Pearl shrugged. “Some people are just like that, Eight. Maybe she doesn’t appreciate what she’s got as much as you do since you went so long without it. On the other hand, some people don’t like branching out. Three always struck me as a cool squid, but also the kinda’ girl that keeps a lot to herself and doesn’t go out of her way to mix with others.”

 

Eight frowned, her left hand slowly curling into a fist. “That isn’t right. Three should be enjoying herself as much as she can. There’s so much to experience, so much to enjoy.”

 

Pearl chuckled. “Eight, you just got here. While it’s a great attitude to have, some people don’t want to spend their lives constantly doing something or experiencing new things. There’s an old saying that everyone takes life at their own pace.”

 

Eight looked away and stared out the window at the vibrant and colourful Inkopolis skyline. “But it just seems like… such a waste.”

 

Pearl chuckled. “Well, I like to think that Inklings are overall pretty good at living life but Three isn’t your typical inkling. You know her better than I do so you should know that.”

 

“I do.” She smiled and whispered to herself, “That’s one reason she’s so cool.”

 

“What was that?”

 

Eight winced. “N-nothing. Just thinking out loud.”

 

Pear’s mouth quirked in a wry smile. “Well, it’s late, you should get to bed. You’ll have plenty of time to do other fun and exciting things tomorrow.” Eight nodded, tiredly rubbing her eyes with her tentacles.

 

“Good night.”

 

“Good night,” Pearl and Marina called back. They watched her leave the room and then Pearl looked back at Marina.

 

“Okay, you know something; spill it.”

 

“Oh? Whatever do you mean, Pearlie?” Marina asked coyly. 

 

“I mean, you have that look on your face you have when you know something I don’t and I’d bet next month’s allowance that it’s not because of the fun you had tonight. Well, not  _ just _ because. What happened?”

 

Marina giggled. “Oh, nothing really. Three and Eight just spent a lot of the night holding hands and protecting each other from their respective species. In fact, Three was particularly protective of Eight.”

 

“Oh really?” Cautious optimism shone in Pearl’s eyes as she rubbed her bottom lip as she pictured the scene in her mind. “Well, that’s a step in the right direction. Hopefully, it means their friends now.”

 

Marina lifted one finger. “I think it’s a little more than that. If I’m right, Three was the one who started the hand holding. If that’s true, then it means she’s opening up to Eight a little, at least to the point she’s willing to show some vulnerability. As for Eight, well, I think there’s a bit more to it than a simple desire to get closer to and understand Three better.” Marina giggled again and a savage grin spread across Pearl’s face.

 

“Are you saying that our little Eight has a crush? That’s a little surprising. I could see them being friends eventually but I didn’t think Eight would develop a crush on someone who tried to kill her.”

 

“There’s no bad blood there,” Marina told her. “And besides, they both saved each other’s life.”

 

“Okay, but where’s the spark? What is it about Three that makes Eight crush on her?”

 

Marina shrugged. “Only Eight would know for sure, but by octoling standards, Three is actually pretty attractive. We’re naturally attracted to strong fighters because learning from them and being around them gives us a better chance at survival. Three is probably one of relatively few who could actually beat Eight in a fight consistently.”

 

“I guess.” Pearl shrugged and sat up straight. “That sounds more like the kind of things we would think about regarding males though. Even though they’re smaller and weaker than us, we’ve traditionally relied on them to protect us and our clutches, not to mention provide for the family.” 

 

Pearl’s sentence trailed off and she frowned as she noticed Marina’s bright smile turn sad.

 

“What?”

 

Marina shook her head. “Pearl, less than one in twenty octolings hatched successfully are male. Like Inklings, they’re the weaker sex of our species, and have traditionally been protected because they’re so vital to our species’ survival. The concept of romance or marriage is foreign to us because it doesn’t exist in our society.”

 

Pearl’s eyes went wide. “What? No marriage? How do you find someone to make babies with then?”

 

“Well, at the age of fourteen, all octoling females are screened for physical and psychological traits that might indicate aptitude for child rearing. They’re then transferred to help train elementary level recruits. Once they’re old enough, they’re screened again for egg count. Those who have a high egg count and desirable genes will be selected to become nurses. They’ll enter nurse training and then go to the spawning pools to help the mothers care for their clutches. 

 

Once they reach ripe mating age, they’ll be paired with a male, selected based on traits the matchers want to emphasize, and they will mate. After that, she will go to the spawning pools and eventually lay her clutch. From there, their life will consist completely of mating and making more eggs until they can’t do it anymore, often with a different male each time.”

 

Pearl stared at Marina, her mouth hanging open in shock. “That totally sucks! Are you saying that you never would have gotten the chance to have kids if you’d stayed?”

 

Marina shrugged. “What I told you was a simplification. All octoling females are screened again for breeding prowess once they reach a certain age. Assuming I can even lay eggs, I probably would have been selected for periodic breeding. Since everyone thought I was a genius, those are genes they would want to pass down to the next generation.”

 

Pearl frowned. “Assuming you can lay eggs? Why wouldn’t you? I mean, I know barrenness can happen but...” She trailed off and Marina gave her a melancholy smile.

 

“Pearl, most octolings aren’t able to have children. Even the ones who go to the spawning pool only have a handful of successful eggs from a clutch of twenty or more. All of the failed eggs are used as material to make octotroopers and the like. The majority of octolings, who can only lay one or two eggs at best, would be extremely fortunate for one to come out correct and healthy. Even among the successful eggs, there can be deformations, flaws and mutations.”

 

Pearl clutched her head, trying to process all of this new information. “Wait, so that means that only the most fertile females are selected from the start to have kids, right?”

 

“Yes. Given the limited resources, it’s important to leave certain jobs to the most capable.”

 

“But if they wanted someone with your genes, why would they only let you have a few kids?”

 

“Because they would also need me to work. The designated breeders spend most of their lives doing nothing but laying eggs and raising children, with help from the nurses.  I was needed to design machines and things. Since I was considered a particularly healthy octoling, I can hopefully lay a clutch of about a dozen or so, which means maybe one or two eggs might become octolings. Mind you, that’s positive thinking. Despite how I look, there’s still a chance I might not be able to have eggs at all.”

 

Pearl groaned and clutched her head. “That’s a heck of a load to drop on someone, Marina.”

 

Marina grimaced and looked away, ashamed. “Sorry, Pearlie. I guess I shouldn’t have said so much.”

 

“Oh yeah?” Pearl gave Marina a light kick with her bare foot. “It’s about time you opened up to me a little and talked about stuff from your past. I didn’t tell you to stop or slow down because it looked like you were unloading quite a bit.”

 

Marina blushed and pressed her hands against her cheeks. “I guess I was holding a lot in. It’s just… Inkling society is so different. I admit, I sometimes think about how unfair it seems. True, you only have clutches of one or two on average, but virtually every female is able to lay one and it’s likely that child will be healthy.” Marina’s hands clenched into fists and her jaw tightened.

 

“Remember the first time we visited your parents?”

 

“Uh… sure?” Pearl responded cautiously. “I know it was kinda’ awkward for you.”

 

Marina shook her head. “It was more than that. I was very envious of you, Pearl. For the briefest of moments, I even hated you.”

 

Pearl leaned away, shocked yet again. “Uh… what? Why?”

 

“Because, you knew your father and mother from hatching up through to now. If you want to see them you can, almost anytime you want. I was never so fortunate. I haven’t seen my mother since I was five years old, when I was sent for elementary level training. I only ever met my father once.”

 

Marina started to sniffle and her eyes were glistening. “I’ll never forget that day as long as I live. He actually recognized me first. Do you have any idea how special that is? He was much smaller than me but he still picked me up and held me. He told me how proud he was to have sired me, how proud he was to call me his daughter.”

 

Marina’s voice cracked and she tried vainly to wipe her cheeks free of tears. Pearl finally broke from her stunned silence and wrapped her in a tight hug with both her arms and her legs.

 

“I’m sorry, Pearlie,” Marina sobbed. “I’m so sorry.”

 

“You better be sorry,” Pearl whispered softly. “You should have told me this a long time ago. How am I supposed to help you if I don’t know what you’re going through?” 

 

She sighed. “I knew something was going on with you, but I never wanted to butt into your business, you know? I figured you’d tell me when you were ready.” She lightly patted Marina’s back. “I guess I was right in the end but maybe there was something I could have done. So… I’m sorry too.”

 

“It’s not your fault. I didn’t want you to know. I guess with everything that happened tonight and talking about Eight’s crush things… things slipped out. I even ended up rambling.” She laughed weakly. “That’s not like me at all.”

 

“You should let them slip out more often, at least to me. I hope you at least feel better getting all that stuff off your chest and not having to keep it a secret anymore.” She handed Marina a tissue and she blew into it.

 

“I do. You’re right; I should have told you earlier. I was just afraid you’d hate me if you found out what I was; what I did.”

 

Pearl chuckled. “Hey, Three actually fought against some of the stuff they made you build, so if she doesn’t hate you, nobody else has the right to.” She cupped Marina’s face in her hands and very gently pressed their foreheads together. “What you did and who you were isn’t as important to me as who you are now.”

 

Marina managed to smile through her tears and gently wrapped her long front tentacle around Pearl’s head, half cradling it’s weight. “The most fortunate thing in my life was meeting you, Pearl. I’ll never forget that, either.”

 

Pearl grinned. “Good, ‘cause I won’t let you.”

 

Marina wiped her eyes and released Pearl’s head. “I’m tired. I should go to bed.”

 

“Good idea.” Pearl grasped Marina’s hand and stood up. “Say, you mind if we shared a bed tonight? With all the stuff you said, I’m not sure I’d feel comfortable sleeping alone.” 

 

Marina stared at Pearl for a second and then smiled, giving Pearl a big hug. “I’d like that, Pearlie.” Then she whispered, “Thank you.”

 

“I promise I’ll listen to all the exciting stuff that happened to you tonight, tomorrow.”

 

Marina gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “I can’t wait to tell you.”

 

Pearl and Marina would both sleep very well that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realize that the exposition is a bit long but I hope it highlights how Marina has gotten so comfortable with Pearl that she lets her thoughts and secrets slip out without even worrying. 
> 
> Given the limited resources of the Octarians, I thought it would make sense for them to emphasize eugenics. I know a lot of you were curious about how I thought Octarian reproductive processes worked culturally after seeing what I did with the Inklings. I hope this sates some of your curiosity.
> 
> Please feel free to leave your opinion on all this in the comments.


	14. Fulvia's Gift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eight learns something new about relationships and Three tells Callie and Marie about something her mother left behind.

When Eight went to bed last night, she would never have expected to spend hours sitting and thinking about seeing her two best friends in bed together.

 

Eight had been the first to awaken that morning. One of her regular tasks was to make sure Pearl and Marina got up on time to make any appointments or just to make sure they got up at a decent hour. Pearl wasn’t terribly fond of the latter part. It normally wasn’t an issue, however, since Marina was often up and about the same time or even before Eight anyway and Pearl’s own pride tended to force her to get up within a half hour of her partner. However, even after an hour, neither of them had gotten up.

 

Frowning, Eight went to Marina’s room to check on her, but she found Marina’s bed still made and undisturbed. Concerned, Eight searched for any kind of note she might have left if she had gone out. Perhaps she was in the parking garage working on her bike before breakfast? Despite living with them over two weeks, she still didn’t know all their habits. Finding nothing, she decided to check on Pearl. That was when she received quite a shock.

 

When she cautiously and quietly opened the door to Pearl’s bedroom, nothing seemed amiss. Her day clothes were still lying on the floor from yesterday, despite repeated attempts from both her octoling roommates to get her into the habit of using the hamper, and the windows were all shut and undamaged.

 

Eight then tiptoed into the room, the supple carpet helping to mask any sounds from her movement. Her skin and tentacles changed colour, blending into the eggshell coloured walls as she scooted along the ensuite wall and peeked around the corner at the bed. What she saw gave her quite a shock.

 

Snuggled up in bed together, utterly peaceful and dead to the world, were Pearl and Marina. Marina had her arms around Pearl as if she were holding a priceless object, clutching the much shorter inkling against her while Pearl’s head rested against her chest.

 

Eight uttered a tiny squeak and then quickly hid back behind the wall. Her mind flashed back to times on training exercises when she had caught officers sleeping together like that. 

 

Officers showing such closeness or intimacy with each other was against regulations in the training splatoons. That particular pair; however, had been pretty persistent in their affection for each other. It was made even more scandalous by the fact that one was a direct subordinate of the other, which broke more rules than Eight could bother to remember. She was aware that officer couples were not uncommon in the regular army but it was rarely shown openly.

 

_ This is different,  _ she chided herself.  _ This isn’t two officers you caught falling asleep together, they’re close friends, partners, this is normal. There’s nothing scandalous about this. _ At least, she hoped not. She was still very new to inkling society and the whole issue with the mantle gloss highlighted just how much she had still to learn.

 

Eight risked another peek around the corner. They were both unchanged. Neither appeared to have been forced into their current position so whatever they were doing had to be consensual.

 

Eight leaned further out from cover, her peek turning into a long, intense gaze at the two girls she had come to view as the closest thing an octarian understood to family. They looked so content, so glad to be so close to each other.

 

As Eight continued to stare, she had felt her stomach tighten and she felt an ache in her chest. Her left hand clenched, holding it up against her breast. Confused emotions swelled within her, envy, jealousy, and others she didn’t recognize. All she knew as she stared at the two of them, so tranquil in each other’s arms, was that she wanted that, whatever it was.

 

Eight quietly backed out of the room, unable to bring herself to wake them up and not wanting to create an awkward moment. She went to the kitchen and poured herself some cereal. She had a feeling it was going to be a while before Pearl and Marina woke up. Now, more than two hours later, she realized she had been right.

 

Saturday was one of the busiest days in Inkopolis. It was a time when many inklings with jobs didn’t have to go to them and could do other things. Pearl and Marina didn’t have any appointments this morning. The Inkopolis News morning segment had been replaced by special programming due to tonight’s Squid Sisters’ concert. So, Eight hoped she wouldn’t be scolded for not waking them up.

 

She remembered last Saturday, when she had been introduced to the very concept of a weekend. It had been a day full of so many amazing things, when Pearl and Marina had taken her out shopping and bought her new clothes. Eight had spent so much time being awed by everything she saw that she didn’t really care what clothes she got, they were automatically “fresh” to her compared to everything she had worn prior.

 

“I wonder what Three’s doing today,” she mumbled to herself as she stared into the rainy gloom outside. What did the deadliest inkling warrior do on a weekend? “Probably turf war,” she said with a smile. She would have to check later for any matches with Three in it. Had she gotten over the incident earlier in the week with that octoling? She hoped so, but last night seemed to indicate that she was still feeling the sting.

 

“It’s not the fact she hit an octoling that’s bothering her,” Eight mumbled thoughtfully to herself. “It’s that she expects better of herself than to break one of the game’s rules unintentionally like that.” Three did seem to hold herself to a very high standard. She was probably the type that was hard on herself too. She had known good officers like that.

 

That reminded her, she promised Four she would text today when she got the chance. She hurried to her room and retrieved her phone from its charging dock. She had one waiting text message. She read it as she walked back to the living room.

 

_ ‘I felt like the heroine in a movie. So many boys wanted to dance with me and everyone stared when I showed up. I felt like a real life Cinderella!” _

 

Eight smiled. It must have been quite a special night, especially since Four didn’t use any text speak in her message. It wasn’t hard to picture Four entering a room full of people and all of them gaping at her beautiful dress. But what was Cinderella?

 

A soft noise touched her ears and Eight quickly rose to her feet, looking in the direction of the bedrooms. She spotted Marina just entering the room, carrying a dozing Pearl in her arms as if she were a small child.

 

Marina gave Eight an awkward smile. “She won’t let go.”

 

Eight let out a small sigh of relief and managed to smile back. Clearly, the two of them sleeping together was no big thing. That was a load off her mind.

 

“Should I help?”

 

“No, just pour me some cereal, would you?” Eight nodded and poured out a bowl for Marina as she sat on the couch. When Eight brought her the bowl and a spoon, she asked Marina again if she’d like some help.

 

“No, it’s alright.” Marina shrugged and started munching her breakfast. “She’ll let go when she wakes up.”

 

Eight frowned. “This has happened before?”

 

“A few times. We’ve shared a lot of hotel rooms and sometimes Pearl and I just end up sharing a bed one way or another. I guess since Pearl has a tough time getting up in the morning, it’s especially difficult when she’s snuggled up and cozy.”

 

It reminded Eight of times when her intake of octoling recruits would snuggle together for warmth, even with others they didn’t like. It said something about the trust soldiers put in one another when they were able to fall asleep even in situations like that.

 

“It’s too bad Three couldn’t come on the touge runs with is,” Marina said between mouthfuls. “I think she would have had fun.”

 

Eight hummed and stared out the windows in the direction of that particular mountain. “I wonder if Three allows herself to have fun. Does she do turf war because she enjoys it or is it just training? Is real battle the only thing she takes enjoyment in?”

 

Marina sighed. “I don’t think anyone enjoys fighting with their life on the line. I mean, you’d have to be crazy.”

 

Eight wasn’t so sure about that. She didn’t know Three well enough to say that she really did revel in battle like that, but she did know that the one time she had fought her for real, Three had a drive to her that couldn’t have been due to any kind of urgent goal she needed to complete. There had to have been more to it. She didn’t like to think that the inkling she admired so much was that kind of person though.

 

“Who’d have to be crazy?”

 

Both octolings flinched in surprise and then looked at the slowly awakening inkling still attached to Marina’s torso. Pearl was finally awake, eyes still clouded with sleep.

 

“Good morning,” Marina sang. “Sleep well, Pearlie?”

 

“Best sleep I’ve had in awhile. Wish it didn’t have to end so quick.” She rubbed her eyes with one hand and then slowly moved off of Marina’s lap to the spot on the couch next to her. “I didn’t oversleep too much did I?”

 

“Only a bit longer than I did,” Marina shrugged. “Don’t worry. Nothing we’re late for.”

 

Pearl yawned. “That’s good. I’d hate to have to go through that again. How about you Eight? You sleep okay?”

 

“Um… y-yes…” Eight was both bewildered and impressed at how Pearl took the unusual situation she had woken up in and completely dispelled any feeling of awkwardness.  _ It really is impressive the way she takes charge of a situation. _

 

Eight brought Pearl her own bowl of cereal and then resumed her seat. “Pearl, do you know what a Cinderella is?”

 

“Huh? Sure, it’s a fairly tale passed down from the precursors.”

 

Eight blinked. “What’s a fairly tale?”

 

“A timeless story that gets passed down through generations if I remember my schooling right.” She grinned wryly, although Eight wasn’t sure why. “Maybe we can watch one of the movies later. Of course, there’s a lot of different versions of it. It’s pretty amazing how the same basic story can be remixed so much to make what are almost new stories. So, why are you asking anyway?”

 

“Because Four said she felt like Cinderella when she went to her ball.” Eight looked at the message again. “She said a lot of boys wanted to dance with her.”

 

Pearl chuckled. “Good for her. Hopefully, she’ll make a boyfriend out of one or two of ‘em. Girl seems like she needs a little grounding but she’s a pretty good catch.”

 

“So, her feeling like Cinderella is a good thing then?”

 

“It is in this case. It means she felt like the most special and important person at the ball. That’s a feeling anyone would love. You’ll have to get Four to tell us all about it when she gets back.”

 

“It’s too bad you couldn’t see her off,” Marina chimed in. “I’m sure she would have appreciated it.”

 

“It’s alright. She understands that duty comes first, especially if I can meet her when she arrives.”

 

“We’ll see.” Pearl grinned. “If you’re going anywhere tonight, just be careful where you go. Traffic is going to be nuts with Callie and Marie’s concert.”

 

Eight grimaced. “I know. Three will probably be there and with Four out of town, I don’t really have anyone other than the two of you to hang out with. When are you going to be in the concert?”

 

“Next month,” Marina answered. “We have some rehearsals before then.” She shivered with excitement. “I can’t believe I’m going to be on stage with the one and only Squid Sisters!”

 

“Easy there.” Pearl said, amusement in her voice. “We’re there as the double act; we’re not there to fangirl over them.”

 

Marina pouted indignantly. “I know that, but aren’t you excited? Honored?”

 

Pearl shrugged. “I guess, but I’m still kinda’ inked at them for what they pulled. Sure it benefits Eight but it was a direct shot at me. I want revenge.”

 

“Pearl,” Marina said in a maternal warning tone. It always amazed Eight how quickly the two could switch roles between parent to child with each other.

 

“Don’t worry, I’m not gonna do anything nasty, but the idea of pulling a little friendly prank on the Squid Sisters is something too good to pass up.”

 

“I don’t really know anything about practical jokes,” Eight admitted. Even if they were known to happen in octarian society, they weren’t exactly common among the disciplined ranks of the army, or so she had been lead to believe.

 

“Well, maybe Three would be willing to help,” Marina suggested. “I’m sure she would be able to help you come up with something, as close to them as she is. I think if you ask her right, she’d do it, despite her loyalty.”

 

“Three huh?” Pearl rubbed her chin in thought and then her face twisted in a malicious smirk that made Eight feel very uncomfortable. “Marina, you just gave me the inkling of an awful, wonderful idea.”

 

Marina sighed. “Maybe I should have kept my mouth shut.” Eight agreed, and she hoped that Three would be able to handle whatever was about to come her way.

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

The dark clouds and heavy rain caused Inkopolis’ street lights to remain on later than usual. The sidewalks were under a perpetual layer of water and several drivers inadvertently splashed pedestrians as they drove down the street. The weather was not enough to inhibit Three, however. She had a place she needed to go, something she needed to do, and she couldn’t let mere weather get in her way. It was at times like these Three was glad her hard training and duties as an agent had toughened her. 

 

As she neared her destination, the almost complete lack of people drove home just how bad the weather was. It turned out even the most rabid paparazzi thought twice about waiting in ambush during weather like this.

 

Three approached the gatehouse and held out her ID card. The guard knew her but there were reasons procedures like this had to be followed. Her card was scanned, accepted, and then she was allowed in through the pedestrian gate.

 

Calamari Castle was, essentially, a gated community for the rich and famous who needed the convenience of a residence within Inkopolis but the privacy and security of a mansion or estate outside the city proper. It consisted of both apartment and house-style condominiums; and a handful of private homes.

 

Three remembered when Callie and Marie had first moved to this place a few months after their final splatfest and their popularity and fame had skyrocketed. With uncharacteristic pedantism, Callie had complained that a gated community, such as Calamari Castle, did not fit within the definition of what a castle was. Marie and Three had laughed until their sides threatened to split open while Callie looked on, perplexed as to what could possibly be so funny. Three supposed that it had something to do with Callie’s father being an archeologist. Castle was a Precursor term, after all.

 

Callie and Marie lived in a house-style condominium roughly in the centre of the community, a simple, light-green bungalow with a grey roof, white window frames, and a few bushes out front. A rather simple-looking home for arguably the world’s biggest celebrities, most would think, but Three liked the fact Callie and Marie never forgot their humble, country roots.

 

Three rang the doorbell trice in a specific pattern, a way of letting them know it was her before they even arrived at the door.

 

The door opened and revealed a brightly smiling Callie who hurried her inside. Three was relieved to finally be out of the rain. She quickly removed her raincoat and Callie took it, hanging it up over a plastic pan that collected the water dripping off. By then, Three had removed her shoes, just in time before Callie trapped her in a big hug and kissed her cheek.

 

“Good to see you, Three. It’s been a while since we’ve gone so long without seeing you.”

 

Three returned the gesture, her lips lingering a bit longer than intended. Callie’s cheek was silky soft and warm, a great comfort after spending so long in the rain. Three’s mantle turned rosy pink, conveying her happiness just being in Callie’s presence.

 

Callie looked her up and down and quirked an eyebrow at her. “Are we going to have to take you out shopping again?” She gently prodded the small gap between Three’s shorts and shirt, emphasizing how Three had grown since buying them two years ago when the shirt had fit her loosely. By stark contrast, Callie wore a well-fitting magenta turtleneck sweater and black pants that hugged her curves well, doing some emphasizing of their own.

 

Three’s response was to add white splotches of apology to her pink mantle. Callie rolled her eyes. “Just go sit in the living room and I’ll bring some nice hot tea to warm up your tummy.”

 

Unlike Three’s old house, the young condo was open concept. Once one left the porch area, the living room was immediately to the left, while the kitchen was against the back wall of the house with no wall separating them. Three turned into the living room and found Marie lying on one of the couches, a laptop on her stomach. She was wearing the same outfit as Callie, but the sweater was lime green. 

 

“Hey, Three,” she said softly. Three smiled back at her and her mantle turned a happy yellow as she leaned in to share a hug and kiss with her other mentor and best friend. “You shouldn’t need us to tell you when you need to buy new clothes. You’re a big girl now, aren’t you?” 

 

Three shrugged sheepishly and Marie rolled her eyes. “You never change.”

 

Marie sat up and moved the laptop to her lap, gesturing for Three to sit beside her. “So, how did Friday night go?” 

 

As she sat down, Three’s mantle turned a green slightly brighter than her natural colour as the memories of the event went through her mind, but then a shimmer of much darker green followed by a ripple of dark blue showed itself. Three winced, knowing that Marie would not have missed that. She wished she had better control of her chromatophores. Despite relying on them so much to communicate, she lacked the firm command over them Marie or even Callie possessed.

 

Marie sighed. “Alright, what happened?”

 

Three said nothing at first. She wasn’t quite sure what she should tell right now. Did it even matter? It was a bit embarrassing. Three froze as she felt a familiar pair of soft fingers turn her head to bring her ruby eyes into the crossed golden orbs of Marie.

 

“Come on, you can tell me. You know you don’t have to hide anything here.”

 

Three’s mantle rippled like a puddle in a rainstorm, each ripple showing one of the confused and conflicted emotions that flashed through her conscious and subconscious in that brief moment. The subtle seductive lilt Marie added to her voice somehow always rattled her walls.

 

Marie insisted that Callie was the better actress but Three always thought Marie had the best control over her voice. It was no coincidence she had been cast as the titular role in the film  _ Temptress _ .

 

“Things went okay with Eight and Marina,” she said finally. “Eight seemed to have a good time but I think she might have had more fun if she didn’t insist on running interference for me to stop the other octolings there from recognizing me as Agent 3.”

 

“Ah.” Marie leaned back in her seat and looked back down at her laptop screen. “I guess that’s something we’re going to have to start thinking about. It’s going to be hard for you and Four to keep your true identities a secret, but that was one of the reasons we insisted on you using different colours during different missions: to keep them guessing.”

 

“But Eight said they already know my natural colour. They even called me the ‘Green Demon.’”

 

Marie snickered. “What?”

 

“It’s true,” Callie said as she returned from the kitchen. She was carrying a tray with three teacups, which she set down on the coffee table. “I seem to recall something about that while I was hypnoed. I told you already, Marie, that they still look under their beds for Three at night.” She giggled and Marie smirked.

 

“I do recall you saying something along those lines.”

 

“But what happens if they find out that I’m Agent 3? Will they stay afraid or will they try to take me down the second they have a chance?”

 

Callie shook her head disapprovingly. “Three, that’s just paranoia.”

 

“It’s a legitimate concern,” Marie countered. “Be honest, we’re not sure what they’ll do. The NSS isn’t exactly a sanctioned operation, in fact, we’re borderline rogue. Plus, using Three as a bodyguard is going to make her even more public than her own turf war matches. If they don’t recognize her now, they will eventually.”

 

Callie grinned and gently rubbed Three’s head. “I think that may be a good thing. From the way the octarians see the two of us now, they might actually feel better knowing that Three appears to be taking her lead from us. If they believe we influence Three, then they won’t worry about her as much. She’ll still be feared but it’ll be in a more respectful kind of way. Sorta like an officer that’s really good and trusted, but still scary.”

 

Marie crossed her arms and thought for a moment. “So, are you saying we should make her role as our bodyguard more official?”

 

“I don’t think we have much choice anyway. Three’s someone we trust and she knows about the NSS. She’s the ideal person to be our bodyguard. We won’t need her all the time and she needs a real cover now that she’s getting older. I think she should be able to tell other people she works for us if she has to. We’ve already been using her as one anyway and that’s her cover for meeting with us half the time. We should make it official, at least as a part-timer.”

 

Marie sighed and massaged her brows. “We’ll have to talk it over with Gramps. I know he wants to keep his agents out of the spotlight but with the internet and them needing turf war to keep their skills sharp, it’s going to be tough to avoid. They never had to worry about it before all the octolings started showing up in Inkopolis.”

 

Callie shrugged. “The times are changing, Marie. Maybe, someday, the NSS won’t be needed anymore.”

 

“Maybe.” She looked at Three. “But that wasn’t the only thing bothering you, was it?” Three shook her head, her mantle turning a sombre blue.

 

“Did you find something else about your mom?” Callie asked.

 

Three had already told them what she had found out about her mother and her past as a street racer; Silvia, Katrina, and about Gyari Trailmaker, at least the highlights.

 

“I found out that my mother was one of the Queens. She was one of the two that didn’t get beaten in her yun’rai-ka challenge. After that though, she started to distance herself from street racing, eventually leaving it entirely.” A tiny smile tugged at one corner of her mouth. “But, after Eight and Marina went home, I found out that the street racer couldn’t get taken out of Mama.”

 

Both Squid Sisters looked at her curiously and said: “Oh? What happened?”

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Even at one A.M., Sunset Fields still had a pleasant and friendly look to it. The street lights and walkway lamps cast warm, yellow-orange light, attracting swarms of tiny insects that buzzed in whirling balls around them. So, the aggressive, dark-purple coupe that burbled into the neighbourhood stuck out immediately as something that didn’t belong.

 

“Place hasn’t changed,” she heard Silvia murmur as they pulled to a stop along the curb. Three used squid form to more easily get out of the cramped back seat and reformed outside. Rather than take them along the walk to the house, however, she took them down the back lane. Something she wasn’t really supposed to do.

 

“Big garages for people who don’t really care about cars,” Katrina mumbled as they walked. Three elected not to comment. They kept going until they reached a garage with a red roof. The garage for Three’s house.

 

“This is it,” Silvia said quietly, a hint of nostalgia in her voice. “This place hasn’t changed either, at least on the outside.” Three walked up to the people door on the side of the garage and took out her keyes. 

 

“You brought us all the way here to look in your garage?” Katrina asked. “Don’t tell me you actually have a project car or something.” Three, again, said nothing.

 

The door opened and three switched on the lights. The garage wasn’t particularly well lit, leaving a lot of dark corners. Most of the illumination was around the garage door, where the family sedan sat parked next to a quartet of bicycles. 

 

Three took out her phone and used the flashlight app to navigate between stacks of boxes towards the back of the garage, where a large object sat under an old tarp, a few small boxes on top of it and layered with dust. The sight of it elicited a small gasp from Silvia, as she, like Three, guessed what it was.

 

Moving carefully in the dim light, they removed the boxes from the tarp and then all three of them grabbed onto it. They looked between each other and then, as one, pulled the tarp off, creating a small cloud of dust that made them all cough. As the dust and their lungs cleared, they all looked back at what the tarp had been covering and now it was Katrina who gasped.

 

It was a squat, racing red, boxy little car with bulging fenders, fat tires and circular headlights flanking a matte-black grille. 

 

“So, she didn’t get rid of it,” Silvia whispered.

 

“I guess not,” Three murmured. “I think I remember her taking me for drives in this car once in a while when I was really young. I forgot all about it. I guess I always assumed it was the other car,” she tossed her head to the sedan back at the front of the garage. 

 

Katrina snorted. “Yeah, right. Night and day between this car and that one. This is a Hakodate  _ Consort _ , it was one of the hottest little cars tuners could get their hands on back when they were new.”

 

“And for a while after,” Silvia added, running an affectionate hand over the car’s shining red roof. “Fulvia adored this car. She loved driving it even more than her first one, even though it didn’t quite hold the same place in her heart. This was her baby.” She looked at Three with a fond smile. “At least, until you came along.”

 

Three managed a nod, but it was difficult to respond properly. Her mind was running rampant with thoughts and emotions so she didn’t know how else to respond. 

 

Memories of her mother flashed in front of her eyes along with some of the more recently acquired information. All of it brought feelings of longing, and a sense that she really didn’t know her mother very well at all, and that clues to her mother’s past were this close the whole time. All together, it gave Three a mild case of the shakes.

 

Silvia wrapped her arms around Three, hugging her tightly. Three needed that hug. It was just enough to keep her from breaking out in tears at the flood of emotions washing over her.

 

Her mother never had many possessions. Most of what she had were clothes and a few gifts from her father and Iya. As a result, there were relatively few items Three had to look at that might tell her something about her mother, to help her remember her. Now, she had the most telling item she could possibly have.

 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Retelling the story of what she found in the back of her garage brought all the emotions from then back, carrying more with them. It was too much and Three broke down crying. Within seconds, she was the filling in a love sandwich between Callie and Marie as they both hugged and nuzzled her to provide as much comfort as possible. They hummed a gentle, soothing tune, helping to calm her down and their mantles displayed a serene sea blue, shimmering in a way that mimicked the motion of waves. Three’s mantle turned blue with white splotches in apology.

 

“Aww, there’s nothing to be sorry about,” Callie whispered gently. “We know this is an emotional time for you. You’ve wanted to know more about your mom forever, right?”

 

“But you shouldn’t be sad,” Marie said. “You should be happy. This’ll be like meeting your mom again, in a way. That car sounds like it was pretty customized, so every piece of that car you learn about will tell you something about her.”

 

Callie looked across Three at Marie. “You expect her to take it apart?”

 

“It’s probably been sitting for a long time and who knows the last time it’s been maintained. She wouldn’t want to risk breaking it.”

 

Three sniffled and hiccuped before managing to speak. “Silvia said it would need some work before I can even start it. She said it might be best to overhaul it.”

 

Callie wrinkled her nose. “Really? Tear the whole thing apart?”

 

Marie smiled. “I bet your mom probably built the thing herself to some degree. Think of it as part of the learning process. Mechanical skills are handy to have.”

 

Three sighed, wiping her eyes with a tissue. “Probably, but I don’t know how to take it apart. I can’t even open the hood because the doors are locked.”

 

“You haven’t talked to your parents about it yet?”

 

Callie tsked. “Three, that’s not good. You should always be able to talk to your parents about these sorts of things. It’s not good to keep secrets like that. This is about your family after all.”

 

“I’m not trying to keep secrets; I just don’t know how to talk to them about it. I felt better coming to talk to you about it first. Sorry, I know you’re busy getting ready for the tour.”

 

“Are we ever,” Marie said, looking at the clock. “We actually have to leave in about an hour.”

 

“Still, honored that you’d talk about this kind of stuff with us, Three, and you know we’re always ready to listen.”

 

“You’re my best friends,” Three whispered. “You’re family to me.”

 

“And you’re like the little sister we never had,” Marie smiled. “But you really should talk to your parents about it.”

 

“I will, I just… I know it’ll bring up some bad memories and I know they’re worried I’ll get into street racing like Mom did.”

 

“Do you plan on doing street racing?”

 

“No,” Three said. “I don’t want to do anything illegal like that, especially as a member of the NSS and as your bodyguard. Maybe there are some more legal options available to me, it’s just… going to be hard to convince my parents.”

 

She felt Callie’s hand on her face again, and it turned her head to meet her golden eyes. “Cortina,” she whispered, “It’ll be okay. Your parents trust you and they love you. They loved your mother too and I’m sure they want to honor her memory and her wishes. Even if it might hurt them a little, they’ll do what they think is best for you or what you think you need to do.”

 

“Just make sure you communicate yourself properly,” Marie said. “Just like you do with us.”

 

Three nodded slowly. “Thanks, for everything.”

 

“It’s what we’re here for.” Marie kissed her cheek and Callie did the same. “Now, before you and we have to go anywhere, we have a little task for you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter will probably feel less interesting than the previous one but at least I hope it'll make the Pearlina fans out there happy.


	15. Cinderella

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eight invites Three to lunch and a movie.

“She’s amazing.”

 

Eight’s soft declaration, spoken more to herself than anyone, broke the quiet routine of Pearl and Marina’s dressing room as they were prepared to go live for Inkopolis News.

 

“What was that?” Pearl turned her head towards Eight only for the makeup artist to yank it straight ahead again and apply more powder to her face.

 

“Oh, it’s Th- er, Maiya,” Eight replied, remembering that not all in the room were privy to certain information. “She’s done over a dozen ranked matches this morning, one after the other. Her endurance is incredible and these would be the inklings closest to her skill level.”

 

“Girl’s good, no doubt about that,” Pearl agreed. “Rank X is nothing to sneeze at. You’ll get there one day, Eight.”

 

Eight nodded absentmindedly, still scrolling through the stats of Three’s matches. She had won all but one of them and hadn’t been splatted even once. Eight guessed that Three’s stats would be even higher if she wasn’t so concerned with not getting splatted. Three no doubt wanted to avoid the habit of relying on respawners, something potentially fatal in a real battle.

 

Marina came up and peered over Eight’s shoulder. “I bet she’s tired by now. She’s amazing but she’s still mortal. Maybe you could invite her to watch a movie with you and have some lunch together.”

 

Eight’s tentacles clung to her head and she looked at Marina with soft, hopeful eyes. “Really? Do you think she would?”

 

“Sure,” Pearl chimed in. “Go ahead and use the card I gave you. It’s on me.”

 

Eight stared at her in disbelief. “Are you sure? Aren’t I supposed to be working?” She was wearing the maid uniform, in spite of Pearl’s gentle protests, and had been getting coffee for everyone as they prepared to go live.

 

“There’s not a lot left for you to do, honestly. You can always do any shopping errands later. Go out and have some fun.”

 

Eight’s face broke into a smile so big Pearl and Marina thought it might tear her face apart. She gave both Marina and Pearl big hugs and then skipped out of the room to the square.

 

“That girl is just too cute,” the makeup artist sighed. “She makes me want to lay an egg.”

 

“You should,” Pearl grinned. “Someone of your skill and good looks ought to reproduce.”

 

The two inklings laughed but Marina followed Eight’s departure with a somber gaze. Statistically, Eight was unlikely to be able to lay eggs at all, but worse was that, to Marina’s eye, one of her Eight’s tentacles was looking slightly off. She dearly hoped it wasn’t what she thought it was, for Eight’s sake.

 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Eight was too excited and nervous to notice all the stares coming her way as she walked through the square. Her hearts beat excited rhythms and her tummy was full of fluttery little insects.

 

Three’s match had just ended and if she wanted to go yet another round, then she should be entering the square shortly. She hoped she would be able to find her in this huge crowd Saturday’s really were hectic, with hundreds of inklings going every which way, people selling wares or food from carts, and that ever mysterious jellyfish with the elongated tendril on the ground.

 

With so many inklings around, plenty of whom were green, finding Three would be difficult without a vantage point or a location she knew Three would have to pass. So, she settled on waiting near the entrance to the tower where several others also waited for their friends to arrive. She was careful not to lean against the wall so as not to soil her pretty dress, but she finally noticed people staring at her.

 

It wasn’t hard to imagine why. It was just like back when she had gotten Pearl’s mantle gloss, only in reverse. She was overdressed for where she was. Still, it wasn’t as if she would be actively participating in any matches so as long as she found Three and they left quickly, it should be alright.

 

Eight was given a reprieve from all the attention when the big screens lit up and the Inkopolis news report began. As everyone kept their eyes up to see Pearl and Marina report on the current battle stages, Eight kept her eyes on the large assembly of inklings, most of whom stopped to watch the report, but there was one head of dark green moving towards the tower that seemed totally unconcerned.

 

Eight moved away from the wall and put herself directly into Three’s path. Three saw her and stopped barely a metre away, showing something Eight had never seen on her face: shock. She stared Eight up and down slowly, as if scanning her, her mantle shifting between bright red, orange, and yellow.

 

Eight blushed, remembering this was the first time Three had seen her in her maid uniform. Eliciting such a reaction out of Three made her feel giddy and her tummy tingled with barely contained glee.

 

“Um, I thought you might be hungry so I thought maybe we could have lunch together. Pearl’s gift. I’ve seen how many matches you’ve already done today.”

 

Three’s eyebrow rose slightly and her colour eased back to green. She looked up at the tower, then back down at herself. She shrugged and Eight’s spirits soared. “Great! We’ll go to a place you want to go. I still don’t really know what places are good to eat around here.”

 

The place Three selected was a good twenty minute walk from the square and not all that far from Pearl and Marina’s penthouse. It was called the “Ring Road All-You-Can-Eat Buffet.” Eight had never been to a buffet before but the “all you can eat” part sounded appealing. The initial price was a bit high and they were limited to an hour but it was less crowded than Eight expected, and it was so different.

 

All of the booths and tables were situated on either side of a conveyor belt that looped through the central room of the restaurant, with a couple of underpasses built into the floor to let people in and out of the inside of the loop. People sitting at the tables simply took plates full of food off the conveyor and put empty plates back onto it.

 

The attendant at the front sat them in one of the far back tables, near the start of the conveyor. Eight assumed that meant they got first dibs on whatever new food came out of the kitchen. Three set her turf war gear aside and washed their hands at the nearby sinks. When they returned, Three sat down in the seat against the wall, leaving Eight to assume the opposite seat.

 

The constant stream of food on the belt was a novel experience for Eight. They had menus but they simply indicated what each dish was called and what it consisted of. Three, however, simply took the first three plates that appeared and dug in. Eight decided it was best not to be picky either and took one plate for herself. She needed to be careful not to soil her dress.

 

Speaking of soiling, the smell Three was giving off was much more noticeable now. She’d faintly smelled the musk on the way over, but indoors, it was proving to be quite a powerful odor. It wasn’t all bad, she decided, since there was a kind of sweetness to the scent, but if Three was going to forgo any more turf war today she probably should shower. That gave her an idea.

 

She took out her phone and sent Pearl and Marina a text.  _ Mind if I bring 3 home so she can shower? _ She didn’t expect an immediate reply, they were working after all, so she was surprised that her phone dinged with a notification only a few minutes later with a message from Marina.

 

_ Sure. Prl says u can watch the movie @ home on the TV. _

 

Eight giggled gleefully to herself. She would be able to enjoy time with Three in the privacy of their home without the public there. Hopefully, that would make Three a little more comfortable and open. She hadn’t even heard her speak yet.

 

There was another ding as a message directly from Pearl appeared on her screen.

 

_ When you clean 3s clothes, check the sizes. I want 2 buy her a present. _

 

Eight had a sneaking suspicion that was related to Pearl’s scheme for revenge against Callie and Marie; although, Eight still wasn’t sure why any revenge was needed. It had to be the contents of that note they’d left for her. Eight hadn’t read it herself and Pearl had burned it with a lighter on the patio afterwards, almost like some kind of ritual. 

 

She typed a simple “OK” and decided to leave it at that. Maybe this was just another part of inkling culture she had yet to understand. She returned her attention to Three.

 

When Eight guessed that Three would be hungry, she hadn’t been entirely correct; rather, Three was clearly starving. The way she attacked the plates in front of her it was as if she hadn’t eaten in days. Just how deep into her energy reserves had she dipped to complete all those matches?

 

Eight had been hoping to try and strike up come conversation but she decided she was content to simply let Three fill her face. A large appetite, sans gluttony, was considered quite attractive among octolings. It usually indicated great athleticism or ample fertility, both highly desirable qualities. Three obviously possessed the former, but Eight wouldn’t have been surprised- nay, she hoped, that Three also possessed that ample fertility. Her species, and the world as a whole, would benefit greatly from the passing on of her genes as much as possible.

 

Eight made sure to eat her fill as well, but wary of overdoing it as she had a week ago with Four. In the span of half an hour though, Three had already consumed at least as many calories as Eight had that day, and then some. She had slowed down now but hadn’t yet stopped. Evidently, she knew her limits more than Eight did. Hardly surprising.

 

Eight gently broached the subject of Three coming over, delicately suggesting she have a chance to shower and have her clothes washed. Three responded with a casual shrug which Eight took for a yes.

 

At the forty-five minute mark, Three had enough and neither of them saw any reason to stay longer. They were thanked for their patronage and Eight started to lead them to the penthouse. However, just minutes after leaving the buffet, they were stopped.

 

“Hey! Excuse me.” An inkling boy ran up to them, his phone in hand. In fact, he seemed to be looking at Eight. “Sorry, but, can I take your picture?”

 

Eight blinked in surprise. “My picture?”

 

“Oh, me too please!” An inkling girl called, taking her phone out of her pocket. “You’re just too cute!”

 

Eight squeaked almost inaudibly, her cheeks tinged blue. Not knowing what to say she gave them a shy nod and fell back on Marita’s training as the only applicable source of knowledge to this situation. She stood up straight and clasped her hands in front of her, smiling as best she could, but it did look rather awkward.

 

Before the two could even take their photo, more inklings appeared, all taking out their phones and even dedicated cameras to take her photo. Before she realized it, she found herself in the centre of quite a gathering as dozens of inklings crowded around while others were just trying to catch a glimpse of what was going on.

 

After ten embarrassing minutes, the crowd finally dispersed, and it was just her and Three again. Eight let out a heavy sigh, suddenly feeling exhausted. She looked at Three, who was giving her an ‘are you alright?’ sort of look.

 

“I’m fine. Just… that’s never happened to me before. We’d better hurry.”

 

It was another twenty minutes before they reached the condominium building and got Three signed in as a guest. Being confined to the elevator for over a minute meant it was completely full of Three’s musk by the time they arrived at the top. She hoped nobody else would be using it anytime soon. Octolings were used to such smells. They were accustomed to going weeks without bathing after all, but surface dwellers might not be so comfortable with it.

 

Eight unlocked the door and let Three go in first. She quickly found a towel and showed Three the bathroom, promising to find her some clothes when she got out.

 

Eight found a shirt and shorts among the boxes of merchandise that were Three’s size. As promised, she sent those sizes to Pearl before going to deliver them.

 

The bathroom was, in effect, two spaces. The actual bathing area with the large bathtub and shower area was separated by translucent panels of frosted glass. Eight entered through the door into the first part of the room, which had two sinks in a marble countertop, and space to change before and after bathing.

 

Three’s clothes had been left haphazardly on the floor, just as Pearl tended to do, to Eight and Marina’s annoyance. Eight was beginning to suspect it was a general inkling habit.

 

Eight could hear the shower running, and after depositing Three’s neatly folded fresh clothes on the small shelf to pick up her dirty ones, she caught the silhouette of Three’s naked form through the glass.

 

Eight swallowed hard. Three’s body wasn’t as shapely as Marina’s, and even Eight’s own hips were more substantial, but it still had a sleek, predatory grace to it. Other than a noticeable bulge, no doubt caused by her substantial lunch, Three’s body was slim but purposeful, and even with just the silhouette, she could see how toned Three’s body was.

 

Eight caught herself staring and turned away. “I put your new clothes on the shelf,” she said hastily. I’ll go put your other clothes in the wash.” Eight hurriedly exited the bathroom and went to the laundry space, a small room where the washing machine and dryer were situated, along with most of the cleaning supplies.

 

“Calm down, calm down you idiot,” Eight chided herself. Why was she getting so excited? It was just someone else having a shower. That was nothing new. 

 

She sighed wistfully and then frowned at the clothes in her hand. “She really did need that bath though. Even her clothes stink really bad.” She could only imagine how foul her funnel had to be. 

 

She tossed the clothes into the washing machine and then added what there was of their own laundry to the load before starting the machine up.

 

Once in the living room, she went to the TV and started searching for the movie  _ Cinderella _ . It was fortunate that she had Four’s text to show her how it was spelled. Unfortunately, things quickly become more complicated. It turned out, there were multiple iterations of the film, with some going back more than half a century. Eight was unsure what to do until she found one version in which Callie herself played the titular character. That was about the time Three appeared.

 

Eight had gotten her the new clothes based on the sizes of her dirty clothes, but as it turned out, the shirt was a bit too small. As a result, Three’s small lunch gut caused the shirt to ride up, revealing a bit of skin.

 

Eight’s eyes tracked her as she sat next to her on the couch and then drifted down to that bulge. Her mind imagined it packed, not with food, but a clutch of eggs waiting to be fertilized and laid. It made her miss her mother, for the first time in what had to be years.

 

“I thought we could watch a movie while you’re clothes were washed. Pearl and Marina said I should watch this one. Callie’s in it so it must be good.”

 

She saw ripples of red, dark blue, and grey wash over Three’s mantle and she suddenly seemed very stiff. Did she not like this movie or was she just excited that Callie was in it?

 

“Do you not like it?” Three bit her lip and then her eyes became oddly cold and empty. She gave her head a little shake and Eight cautiously pressed the play button.

 

Was something the matter with Three? Oh, maybe it was a tummy ache, just like she had. Maybe Three had overdone it after all.

 

Eight reached a tentative hand out as the Movie’s opening credits began and placed it gently on Three’s bulging middle. Three’s body immediately went rigid but Eight forced her hand to remain and began rubbing slow, gentle circles over Three’s abdomen. After a moment, Three relaxed and Eight smiled. Evidently, tummy rubs felt good to her too. She was glad to finally return the favour.

 

When Four mentioned she felt like Cinderella, Eight expected an uplifting story, but at the start, it seemed like completely the opposite. Eight was on the verge of tears, seeing Callie- Cinderella rather, on her hands in knees, dressed in rags and working herself to exhaustion as the sole housekeeper in an enormous mansion, abused by two cruel step sisters and an awful stepmother. She was only vaguely aware of what those terms meant but it didn’t stop the feeling of righteous fury she felt any time one of them kicked poor Call- Cinderella, or said cruel things to her.

 

When her step family tore up her dead mother’s dress to prevent her from going to the ball, Eight needed a break and left the room to put the laundry in the dryer.

 

She told herself that movies weren’t real, that it was pretend, that Callie and even the wicked stepmother and sisters were just acting out characters. This was just an old story, so why did it affect her so much? Because it was Callie in the role of Cinderella, and the notion that anyone would abuse one of the people she idolized most in the world.

 

Eight dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief before returning to Three’s side. Three’s expression seemed tense and her whole body appeared quite rigid, so Eight resumed the tummy rubs in hopes of helping her to calm down. It ended up making her feel better too.

 

Eight got there just as Cinderella looked up from her own bout of crying to the kindly face of an elderly inkyora in an elaborate robe. Eight immediately took to the Fairy Godmother character. She was like a kindly grandmother suddenly giving hope to Cinderella in a moment where she had none at all. The whole concept of “magic” was very confusing to her but she did her best to simply accept it and gasped when she saw the incredible new dress the fairy godmother made for Cinderella.

 

As Cinderella made her way to the ball at the grand castle of the king and she saw the castle’s majesty, she wondered what kind of amazing culture would build such grand structures with such primitive technology.

 

When Cinderella found the prince and they began to dance together, Eight completely lost herself in the story again. The music, the visuals, and Callie was so beautiful. Her heart ached terribly when Cinderella had to rush away before the magic wore off.

 

The subsequent quest to find the wearer of the lost slipper would have struck Eight as ludicrous in most circumstances, but this time, she was so enamoured with the tale in front of her she accepted it readily.

 

She was about ready to throw a chair off the roof when Cinderella’s putrid, puss-filled slag of a stepmother locked her in her high-tower bedroom to prevent her from trying on the slipper that had been brought and cheered as Cinderella used her bedsheets to descend down to the roof before climbing into the window.

 

Eight felt her spirits lift as Cinderella got there just as the prince and his footman were about to leave and then vehemently swore when the stepmother sneakily tripped the footman carrying the slipper, causing it to shatter to pieces on the floor.

 

Everything seemed hopeless and Eight was about to fall into pieces on the floor when Cinderella pulled the other slipper from her pocket and gave it to the prince. The scene then cut to the sight of a newly married Cinderella and her prince descending the stairs to a waiting carriage.

 

Eight’s eyes were already filling up with tears by the time the carriage passed Cinderella’s step family dressed in rags and scrubbing flagstones in the castle garden. When the film ended with a shot of Callie and her prince sharing one last kiss, Eight finally lost it and began to bawl uncontrollably, grabbing onto Three and hugging her tightly.

 

For a second, Three did nothing, she simply stayed frozen in place, but then, slowly, Eight felt arms wrap around her, until they held her tightly, so very tightly. Eight didn’t know what it was, but there was something behind this hug, more than simply offering comfort. She could feel it in the way Three’s body felt against hers, in the way her arms held her so earnestly, Three too had been moved in some way.

 

Any other time, Eight would have made something of that, noted how it seemed even the coolest of squids had emotions and soft spots, but right now she just wanted Three’s arms around her.

 

“Hold me,” she sobbed. “Hold me. Don’t let go.” And so Three held her, and didn’t let go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Given how hard humans work to preserve a lot of artistic works, I don't think it would be all that surprising for some or even a lot of it to survive long enough for the new sentient creatures of the world to find them and then watch them.


	16. Missing Pieces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three drops the long-awaited bombshell on her parents.

Of all the films they could have watched, why did it have to be  _ Cinderella _ ? It took every ounce of self control she had to maintain a straight face and hide her inner anguish. How long had it been since she had seen any version of the film? She already knew the answer, and it cut. 

 

She hadn’t watched any film or play of Cinderella since she was a small child. When her class was going to put perform a play of it back in school, she had steadfastly refused to take part.

 

To further aggravate the wound, Eight selected the version with Callie playing the titular role. Three had seen every other movie Callie had ever acted in and had enjoyed her performance every time. It was a given that Callie would provide a stellar performance, and being someone she loved, Three couldn’t ignore the film and just pretend to watch. She would have to just keep control and bear it.

 

_ I’m Agent Three of the New Squidbeak Splatoon. _ She chanted silently to herself.  _ I’m tough, I’m strong, I’ve faced super scary things-, well, they weren’t scary to me, obviously, but they’d be scary to other people and I scare other people. Octolings, most of them, fear me, they shudder at my name. I’m super tough, I’m not going to let some movie break me down. _

 

The way Eight lost herself in the film was a mixed blessing. On the one hand, she was so engrossed that Three didn’t have to concern herself as much with controlling her expressions and displays; however, it did mean that Eight got rather emotional and that made things awkward. Not that she didn’t appreciate the tummy rubs, but it all seemed so odd, like a mix of childish emotion and adult sensuality.

 

As Three feared, Callie’s performance had been nothing short of spectacular. The emotions she displayed, the pain she showed, and her singing were all talons on her heartstrings. It unearthed long buried memories of sitting on her mother’s lap, watching their favourite movie, bonding together.

 

When Eight got up in the middle of the movie and left the room, mumbling about putting the clothes in the dryer, Three was a little taken aback. She sat there, stunned for a moment, not knowing what to do. She ultimately decided to let Eight have some time alone and let the movie keep rolling. The sooner it was over, the better.

 

Eight eventually returned, more together and apparently ready to watch the rest of the film. If she thought the movie only got more uplifting from there, she was about to be sadly disappointed.

 

Eight’s mood went on a roller coaster of ups and downs as the film continued. It proved interesting enough that Three began watching her as much as the film. It was novel hearing her swear for the first time and the anger she displayed at what was happening on screen nearly made Three burst out laughing. 

 

When the ending came however, Three was taken completely by surprise when Eight hugged her, weeping. It was the first time she had felt an octoling’s arms around her without them trying to restrain her or choke her out. The brief flash of such moments through her conscious memory made her hesitate before she hugged Eight back, and she felt her own mental walls quiver.

 

Scarcely recountable memories bubbled to the surface of her mind, times when she too had sobbed while watching  _ Cinderella _ . In particular, she remembered burying her face in her mother’s chest whenever Lady Tremaine came on screen. Most of all, she remembered being in her mother’s loving, protective embrace, and her sweet, calming voice telling her it was going to be alright. In fact, those had been the last words she had ever uttered, and had been seared into Three’s being like a scalded brand.

 

“Hold me,” Eight sobbed. “Hold me. Don’t let go.”

 

Three’s body shuddered involuntarily as she fought a desperate battle to maintain her own composure. With Eight’s face buried in her chest, she sacrificed control over her mantle, which rippled with sorrowful blues and bursts of scarlet. For the first time in a long time, Three allowed herself to feel a deep, painful longing for the mother she had lost. The child she had been floated on the surface of her soul like a buoy in a hurricane.

 

Her iya had once told her that although her mother would never be whole again on the Earth but pieces of her remained, pieces that would keep her from being gone entirely, as long as she held onto them. One was within herself and every member of her family. For years, Three had resigned herself to the notion that there were no other pieces to collect, nothing more to connect herself to her dearly departed mother than increasingly distant memories and feelings. Now, she was aware of new pieces. At least a few she found at the car meet, and then there was that one big piece still sitting neglected under a dusty tarp in the garage. 

 

Despite wanting to leave her old life behind and start anew with her father, bringing her bondmate in tow, she hadn’t been able to part with that car, arguably the biggest possible reminder of that life. In that case, the car must have given her a feeling of joy and of delight far in excess of any bad memories. If her mother poured her heart and soul into that car the way the people in the car meet did their’s, then that car represented the biggest piece of Fulvia Scarletteri other than Cortina herself. She couldn’t let that slip through her fingers, and letting it get buried would mean turning her back on her mother. Her objective was clear.

 

The inkling’s vibrant mantle display cooled to its natural green with renewed focus and her eyes hardened with steely determination as Cortina Scarletteri sank, once again, beneath the surface, leaving only Agent 3 of the New Squidbeak Splatoon to try and stand tall against the storm.

  
  


\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

It had been two hours since Three had finished watching the movie with Eight, and she was finally home. The octoling had taken a while to calm down and Three hadn’t been in her most consolitary mood. So much iron determination coursed through her veins that one could imagine her bleeding red instead of blue. 

 

Once calmed down, Eight simply gave Three her clothes back and seemed content with letting her leave. Three took time only to change before she did so. Not that she didn’t like the Off the Hook clothes she’d been lent but wearing merchandise from an idol pair other than the Squid Sisters felt uncomfortable, somehow.

 

Three entered the house and deposited her shoes neatly in the porchway. She could hear the sounds of her iya making dinner in the kitchen and the soft jazz filtering through from her father’s computer. Her mother hadn’t been the biggest fan of jazz but her iya and father both loved it. It had been one of the things that brought them together in the first place.

 

Her father sat on the couch looking at the latest batch of flyers from the mailbox. Three spotted one ad for Callie and Marie’s concert. Good, that should help with her overall plan. The long series of bus rides home had given her time to think and come up with a strategy, but it was a bit crude. She was used to coming up with plans for attacking octarian strongholds or retrieving zapfish. Accomplishing complex objectives through purely verbal means was not her strong suit, so she had been sure to say a few prayers on the way over as well. But she also had the example of Marie Sansea to go by, someone who Three bet could convince a crab they were a potted plant.

 

“Welcome home, sweetness,” Purdie smiled. “You must have gotten a lot of matches in today once the rain cleared up.” Three responded in the affirmative with a subtle and quick shift of her mantle’s tone and then went upstairs to deposit her gear and Off the Hook merch.

 

When she arrived, her eyes briefly fell to the collection of Squid Sisters keychains next to the closet and she briefly thought of Hani and the other octolings from the car meets. She wondered if any of them would be able to afford concert tickets.

 

Three began going through her things, grabbing a plain black t-shirt and fishing out her Squid Sisters staff pass. She also made sure to find her driver’s license. She had gotten one at Marie’s insistence and, although she didn’t think she really needed it before, she was glad to have the freedom it offered anytime she needed to borrow the family sedan. Now, she was especially glad she had it but she needed more practice driving.

 

All her things collected, Three went back downstairs and helped her father set the table. She wouldn’t be eating much, not with the big lunch she had still digesting; although, thankfully her stomach had mostly flattened by now. That meant she could spend more time talking if she needed to. She hoped she wouldn’t.

 

Dinner was boiled eel meat with potatoes, a relatively simple meal thanks to modern packaging, and just one of the many great options in Purdie Scarletteri’s ever expanding repertoire. Three was actually sorry she hadn’t inherited any of her skill or talent in the kitchen. The most complicated thing she could make was a sandwich.

 

After her father led them in saying grace, Three spoke. “I have a job tonight,” she declared. “So I’ll be gone all evening and out probably pretty late.”

 

Her parents stared at her, somewhat blindsided by this sudden announcement. Three knew she was taking a risk here. She rarely started any conversation, especially at dinner. Normally her parents would be the ones promoting discussion and small talk. With her going the unusual step of starting the conversation without one of them asking what she had planned tonight first, she was breaking character, which might cause them to raise their guard. Three thought it a worthwhile risk, however. Her parents had been somewhat on edge since Three had been reunited with Silvia and she knew they were worried and that meant they were wary. She needed some way of bringing their guard down to deliver the blow that would knock them off balance.

 

“You have a job?” Her iya repeated. “Why? Was there something you wanted to buy?” There was worry in her voice and in her mantle. Three hadn’t expected the news to shock her quite like this. Was she reading into this deeper than she intended?

 

“Not really, but it’s only for one night, at least so far, and if there’s something I’ll want to buy in the future, then I’ll have the money.” Her iya still looked uncertain but then her father cut in with a question of his own.

 

“What is the job, exactly?”

 

“Basically doing grunt work at the concert tonight.” After a second of reflection, she added, “I know it’s kind of a sudden thing but they were looking for more people last minute and since I was asked I thought I might as well take it.”

 

Purdie frowned. “I don’t know, it seems a bit odd. Wouldn’t they make sure they had enough people well ahead of time?”

 

Marie once told Three that one of the secrets to not revealing the truth was not telling lies. It had taken a while for her to understand her meaning of that odd contradiction but she knew it now. 

 

Her iya had raised her since hatching and became her primary caregiver after her mother’s untimely death. Even better than Callie or Marie, she would be able to sense a lie from her, so Three was being very careful not to lie and avoid any half truths. One of the keys to that, as Marie had also told her, was not explaining things she didn’t have to, so Three answered her iya’s question with a simple shrug.

 

“I think it’s fine,” Dekin said nonchalantly. “Too many kids these days are lazy or only think about playing around. They’re in for a rude awakening when they reach adulthood. He gestured in Three’s general direction with his fork. “If she gets some work experience now it’ll put her way ahead of the game when that time comes. You can’t really be picky when you start out.”

 

“But concerts can be rough,” Purdie pointed out, “and the Squid Sisters are pretty popular.” Three thought that was a massive understatement but didn’t comment.

 

“She’ll be fine, she can handle herself. When does it start?”

 

“I have to be there by seven at the latest,” Three answered. “The actual concert starts at eight.”

 

Dekin grimaced. “Even this early, it’ll be crowded on those buses, not to mention the crowds.” Then his eyebrows lifted with realization. “Your job doesn’t end until after transit services are done.”

 

Three nodded. “So, I was hoping I could borrow the car. It’ll be late and I’ll be tired so I thought it would be the more responsible option.”

 

Dekin looked at her for a moment and then shrugged. “I suppose it makes sense. Just try not to scratch it.”

 

“Daddy, I won’t.”

 

“I know, but as your father I’m required to say something like that every time you borrow my car.” He chuckled and Three giggled in return. Even her iya seemed to relax, finally.

 

Dinner continued and Three listened as her parents talked about the day’s events and about how everything seemed to be getting more and more expensive. Three waited for an opportunity to pop the loaded question she was holding onto but she needed time for her parents to wind down and relax their guard again. Having dropped one bomb on them at the start, with that out of the way, they wouldn’t expect another even more explosive one.

 

As they began to wrap up dinner, her father asked her, “Do you have any plans for tomorrow?” It was now or she would have to wait yet again and that would displease Callie and Marie. That was never a healthy thing to do.

 

“It depends,” she said, taking a deep breath. “Because I wanted to ask you about Mama’s car.”

 

Dead silence. Her parents stared at her as if she’d told them she was eggnant. For all she knew, they might have preferred that. With them offering up no immediate response, Three seized the initiative.

 

“I never knew about it until recently, and I was kinda surprised it was in our own garage. I know why you hid it, it was for the same reason you never told me about Mama’s past as a street racer.” She eyed Purdie closely. “Or her yun’rai-ka challenge with Gyari Trailmaker.”

 

Purdie seemed to collapse into herself, as if her emotional core was sucking in the rest of her spirit. Dekin looked like he was dealing with a multitude of mixed emotions. That made sense, he didn’t have the personal involvement with the world they had been trying to hide. She doubted it had ever been his idea. Three went on.

 

“I know you were trying to protect me, I know you didn’t want me making the same mistakes Mama made, but that’s not what this is about. I forgive you for all of that. I know your soul was in the right place but you know how much I loved Mama, how badly I want to know who she was.” She paused to take a deep breath and fix her composure.

 

“I had to find out from someone else about the car, someone else who told me what it meant to her, someone else who told me how much joy and happiness it brought her, someone else who told me I didn’t know my mother as well as I thought I did.” She shook her head. “Finding out you were keeping something so important from me and having to find out from somebody else really hurt me.” That last sentence had the desired effect; both her parents flinched as if struck. She had hit them where it hurts.

 

“I’m not going to become a street racer,” she said firmly. “But I do want to experience what it was about driving that made Mama happy. Auntie Silvia told me I could do that without street racing and I want to find out how. She made a lot of the same mistakes Mama made before, and maybe worse, but that means she’ll help make sure I don’t. She can teach me, just like I think Mama would have if she were still here. If driving brought her so much joy, I think she would have wanted to share it with her daughter, with me.”

 

She let those last words sink in for a moment and then continued again. “I know it’s not what you wanted to hear, but I’m growing up, and part of growing up is finding out who I am and understanding where I come from. I know Mama’s gone, but I’m still her daughter as much as I am yours, and I want to honor her the best way I can.” She let out a shuddering breath and realized she was rambling. She was supposed to keep it short and concise. She needed to wrap this up.

 

“So, what I’m asking is: can I have it? Mama’s car?”

 

The following silence was painfully long. Three even started to notice the ticking of the kitchen’s analogue clock and how long each second actually was. Her parents looked between each other and her several times before her father finally spoke.

 

“Let us talk about it, okay?”

 

Three responded with a simple change in hue then stood up. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, not quite sure what she was apologizing for, and then headed upstairs to get ready.

 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Purdie watched with a heavy unease in her soul as their car vanished down the back lane. For a brief moment it felt as though her precious daughter was leaving her, the most precious piece remaining of the inkyora she had loved so deeply, and still did.

 

“Don’t look so sullen,” Dekin said with a reassuring tone. “It’s not as if she’s leaving us for good.” He pressed his palm gently against the small of her back and held her right bulb in his other hand. “We knew this would probably happen one day. It was our decision to keep the car and if we really wanted to hide it we could have.”

 

“I know,” she said quietly, still staring out the window, “but that doesn’t make it any easier.”

 

She let him lead her away from the back window to the living room, sitting her on the couch and putting a comforting hand on her thigh. “I guess she’s grown up faster than we realized. Especially in the last two years or so, she’s changed a lot. I guess that’s what happens at that age.”

 

“No,” she said, taking hold of his hand, “it’s more than that. Yes, kids always change a lot after they turn fourteen, but they don’t usually mature the way she has. If anything, they can become more rebellious and distant, trying to become their own people and independent. A lot of kids from outside of Inkopolis move out at fourteen.”

 

“Well, what do you think it is then? She only met Silvia again recently.”

 

“I don’t know, but I think whoever it is, is a positive influence. She has been very responsible and she’s done nothing but make us proud. She’s made mistakes but she’s much better than I or Fulvia was at her age.”

 

Dekin chuckled. “Or me, for that matter.” He kissed the back of Purdie’s bulb and then let it gently fall. “You weren’t exactly domestic when I first met you either, and Fulvia didn’t truly simmer down until she was eggnant. After that, she was almost a whole new person.”

 

“But still had as much of the old person as we could stand,” Purdie sighed. “I get the feeling Cortina takes more after her mother than either of us realized. It just manifests in different ways.”

 

“Well, I believe her when she said she had no intention of getting into street racing. She’s got a good head on her shoulders and that’s our raising her that did that, not whatever other influence she’s had.” He wrapped an arm around Purdie and held her close. “We raised a good kid but she’s not a child anymore. You have to take the sapling out of the pot and plant it in the ground eventually.”

 

Purdie sighed and prodded her husband with a firm finger. “She inherited your mouth, that’s for sure. That speech she gave tonight was all you.” Dekin smirked and then pressed his lips against hers in a firm but tender kiss. They parted and he grinned magnanimously.

 

“You’ve never complained about my mouth before.”

 

Purdie rolled her eyes but was unable to suppress a smile and the passionate pink that infected her mantle. How long had it been since the two of them had spent time together- really spent time? Their relationship really hadn’t been the same since Fulvia’s passing. It always felt as though something was missing and without realizing it, they had acted as if that missing piece didn’t exist.

 

_ Missing piece _ , she thought. That was exactly what Cortina had said. The gap left by that piece would never be filled, but maybe it was time they thought about shrinking that gap. They were both still young and vital and perhaps it was time to finally let Fulvia go. Cortina was finding her way to do it, they should too. Firstly, the matter of the car needed to be dealt with.

 

“We need more information,” she said eventually. “Even if she’s right, this decision of hers is mostly emotional.”

 

“Obviously,” Dekin chuckled. “But that car hasn’t run in years and we don’t know if it’ll still run. I can’t do more than change the oil, tires, and spark plugs on our car.”

 

“It isn’t just about the car; she wants to learn more about her mother and understand her. In doing so, I think she’s trying to find herself, corny as that sounds.”

 

“Very,” Dekin replied his grin returning. “So, what do you suggest?”

 

“I suggest we actually go and have a word with the person she’ll obviously be going to for advice on this journey of hers. We have to go see Silvia.”

 

Dekin sighed. “I was afraid you were going to say that.” But his grin never faltered. “Let’s hope she can find time in her busy schedule to talk to us.”

 

“She won’t be especially busy right now. She’ll be at the usual car meet. From what Cortina’s told me, they still meet in the same place they did before.”

 

“You want to go now?”

 

“Why not? I don’t know about you but I’d really rather deal with this sooner rather than later, for our daughter’s sake.”

 

“I can’t argue there, but our precious daughter,” he thumbed towards the back of the house, “has run off with our mode of transport.”

 

Purdie uttered a soft groan and then stood up. “I’ll call a cab.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I debated putting Three's perspective in the previous chapter but I thought it worked better, in terms of pacing, in this chapter. I also thought it added a bit more depth to Three. Sure, mystery and aloofness can be good, but we all know there's more to Three.
> 
> Three's memories of her dearly departed mother are few but precious. However, like roses, those memories are beautiful but can be painful to grasp.


	17. Parents and Teachers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three turns up for her job while Purdie and Dekin confront Silvia and Gyari about their daughter's future.

The Hanazawa Concert Hall was the biggest building of its kind in the world. It had been completed last year after being commissioned and built in response to the Squid Sisters’ unprecedented popularity. It occupied more real estate than most stadiums and blocks of multi storey car parks surrounded it, almost like a bulwark between the rest of the city and the hundred-thousand people in it.

 

Built into the concert hall was a monorail station where two perpendicular lines wove one over the other. Closer to the street was the subway station, and on the street itself, rows of buses deposited passengers who then joined the almost constant stream of people making their way into the hall. 

 

Three was even more glad she hadn’t taken the buses now than when she’d left. Thanks to the foresight of someone putting an overpass, she was able to avoid the jam packed road and onto a side street behind the concert hall. After a couple hundred meters she stopped at the security gate and held out her staff pass.

 

The guard at the gate studied her carefully, one hand on the butt of his flashlight, before he took her pass and scanned it with his reader. The reader blinked green and he slowly handed it back to her. It wasn’t hard to understand his suspicion. She was quite young, after all, and the rusty, battered sedan she was driving was a stark contrast to the six figure cars owned by everyone else carrying a pass like hers.

 

Three thought it said something about the scope of the concert when even the staff parking consisted of several multi storey car parks that could hold more than a thousand cars each. 

 

She decided that it would be fastest just to head to the roof and she found a perfect spot, between two cars that probably cost more than her house. As she backed very carefully into the space, a long, narrow, shuttle cart, with flashing amber beacon on the back, approached. When Three emerged, being very careful with the door, she met the eyes of the cart’s driver who looked at her battered car sitting between the two shiny new ones and gave her an approving smile. She smiled back and he gestured for her to take a seat on the cart.

 

With only one passenger and most of the staff already arrived, the cart driver took her right through the long subterranean corridors right to the large doors that lead backstage. She thanked him and went inside, where things were suitably chaotic.

 

A helter-skelter conflation of species bustled every direction. Some carried cables, some clipboards, and others even carried lumber. People tried to make themselves heard over the din as they yelled into radios and then tried desperately to hear any reply. 

 

Three ducked to avoid someone carrying a ladder and then managed to make her way to the door marked “Dressing Rooms.” Even here, there was a lot going on.

 

People, many of whom probably owned cars like the ones she had parked between, lined the walls, standing or sitting on plush benches. Many of them stared at their phones or were talking on them. A few people with clipboards talked with small groups and then the corridor was terribly crowded with probably as many flowers as every florist shop in Inkopolis combined. It was like walking into a meadow.

 

Two crabs in security uniforms barred the way but Three showed them her pass and walked on. She eventually found the door that simply read “Squid Sisters” and knocked firmly. There were several seconds before the door clicked open and a familiar face greeted her. 

 

“Oh, it’s Maiya,” Tassa Markin, the Squid Sisters’ manager, greeted cheerfully. “Thank the sovereign god, it’s been nothing but suits since we got here.” She stepped aside to let Three enter.

 

Callie and Marie were both already in costume, their mantles being groomed and polished to a sheen that would have made those expensive cars envious. They greeted her without moving their heads even slightly.

 

“Hello Maiya,” They said in unison.

 

“Hi,” Three replied softly. “It’s been a while since I saw you wearing those.”

 

Callie laughed. “Yeah, it’s been a while alright, but they still fit.”

 

“Just,” one of the makeup artists quipped. “After this tour, you girls will need new ones for sure.”

 

“Gee, I wasn’t aware the costume department was suddenly doing makeup,” Callie retorted, but her smile never wavered. Captain Cuttlefish had told Three that joking right before a mission was a way soldiers often dealt with nerves. Three supposed there wasn’t all that much difference with performing on stage.

 

“Speaking of,” Marie waved her hand towards the far corner of the room. “You get changed too. While you’re doing that, you can tell us how you did.”

 

Three went to the far corner and found the t-shirt they had left. It was one of their concert t-shirts and showed the silhouettes of Callie and Marie but their clostumes were coloured brightly. Above and below were the words “Fresh Start Concert Tour.”

 

Three removed her own t-shirt and then donned the new one as she gave her report. “Well, I did sixteen ranked matches today, didn’t get splatted once, and only lost one match because one of my teammates was determined simply to outdo me in kills instead of playing the objective.”

 

“Well, that’s unfortunate,” Callie remarked as two expert pairs of hands tied her tentacles into a perfect bow. “There are a lot of players like that though, even at the high ranks. Egos and pride can get bruised pretty easily at the top.”

 

“And that doesn’t just apply to turf war,” Marie added. Her own tentacles were clipped into place and then they were both examined closely again. Satisfied that their work was done, the artists excused themselves from the room, with Tassa following them out. At last, the three of them could speak privately. Although Three actually liked most people Callie and Marie worked with on a regular basis, some topics were not meant for their ears.

 

“And what happened after all that?” Callie asked.

 

“Eight invited me to lunch. We went to that buffet you showed me that one time: The Ring Road Buffet.”

 

“Ah!” Callie smiled broadly. “I miss going there.”

 

“Considering how much you ate, I doubt they miss you,” Marie grinned. “Still, that seems unusual for Eight. She seems the quiet, shy type.”

 

Three shrugged. “After that we… she took me to Pearl and Marina’s place for a shower and then we…,” she looked away, her mantle turned blue, despite her best efforts to maintain her neutral green display. “We watched a movie:  _ Cinderella. _ ”

 

The two winced, their smiles collapsing into worried frowns. They knew what that film meant to Three, the memories of it she treasured with her mother and the painful feelings it brought up. Three hurriedly allayed their concerns.

 

“I’m fine, really. It was tough but I got through it and…,” she smiled at Callie. “You played a good Cinderella. Mama would have loved it.”

 

Callie’s smile returned, her golden eyes glimmering. “Thanks. That means a lot coming from you.”

 

Three nodded. “Eight really loved it too. She was crying and yelling almost the whole time. I’d never heard her swear before.” All of them laughed.

 

Three loved moments like this. Callie and Marie weren’t just her mentors and superiors, they were her very best friends and she loved them like family. The fact that bonded and married couples were even closer than this genuinely amazed her, but she couldn’t imagine being closer to anyone than the two of them.

 

“And what about the other thing we asked you to do?” Marie asked. “Did you talk to your parents?”

 

Three nodded. “They said they would talk about it.”

 

“Well that’s better than them just thinking about it,” Callie grinned. “How confident do you feel?”

 

Three grimaced. “I… don’t know. Sorta half? It was hard to tell because there were so many emotions.”

 

“I bet there were.” Marie put on her little circular headpiece and tapped it in place. “Well, it’s our time to go out now. Ready to do your job, bodyguard Maiya?”

 

Three stood up straight and her face became as expressionless as stone. “Ready.”

 

“Good, because in this place, there’s bound to be more than a few… enthusiastic fans.”

 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

It was almost surreal how quiet things were without the younger crowd, Silvia reflected. This was one of the smallest gatherings in a long time, mostly consisting of the older generation. Even Katrina, a girl who would rather sulk in the dark than socialize outside her shoal, had gone to the concert.

 

At least many of the usual assembly of octolings had come. No doubt it was because they couldn’t afford the astronomical ticket prices. Katrina had spent a large chunk of her savings to afford one herself. Even their sons had gone, and they and Katrina normally refused to like any of the same thing based on principle as only siblings would understand it.

 

Silvia sighed, knowing she was part of the reason her daughter was so difficult. The dynamic among the adults in their family had left all of their children somewhat bitter but Katrina seemed to take it personally. She always had been daddy’s little girl and Gyari had smothered her with adoration from the moment she hatched.

 

As Katrina got older, however, she started to resent the fact that he spent more time with his sons, failing (or perhaps unwilling), to understand that as their father, it was his job to teach them how to be proper males themselves. By the same token, it was Silvia’s duty to teach Katrina how to be a proper female. But what should have been precious mother-daughter bonding time had always felt like a chore to both of them.

 

Gyari insisted that Katrina loved her but Silvia always had the impression that she hated her guts, and her daughter had even said to her face that she wished she had hatched as a male. That had cut deep, and she had few shoulders to cry on.

 

Fulvia had always been that shoulder, even after she left the road warrior lifestyle and assumed the guise of a humble housewife and the genuine persona of a caring mother. The Scarletteri house had never been anything fancy but it had been a home. She had a loving bondmate, a devoted husband, and, eventually, the most precious little daughter.

 

Maybe that was why she had taken to Cortina so much once she had reappeared in her life. Beyond her responsibility as Fulvia’s friend, she felt like Cortina was more receptive to her than Katrina was, despite being almost strangers to each other. That was a sad state for her relationship with her daughter to be in and hardly expected of a matron, not that she had ever asked for the role. Even so, that maternal part of her dearly wanted to continue seeing and mentoring Cortina the way Katrina never wanted to be mentored. She didn’t like the way that made it sound as if she was trying to replace her daughter in her heart, but she couldn’t help that feeling.

 

Silvia looked down the mountain towards the city, which seemed strangely quiet tonight, despite the pandemonium that had to be happening at the concert hall. She only saw a single car approaching them on the road. Was that a taxi? It was unusual to see taxis there. There wasn’t anything here to take a taxi to except maybe one of the inns higher up the mountain. She felt a lump rise in her throat when the taxi’s turn signal began to blink in her direction and then crossed the road.

 

Before the taxi even stopped, she knew who was going to come out of it. She steeled herself for an argument or at least a confrontation and forced herself to walk towards it.

 

Two figures emerged from the back of the taxi. They both looked around, appearing somewhat lost, until they saw her approaching.

 

The years seemed to have been kind to Purdie who looked exactly as Silvia remembered. Her brown mantle was exactly the same shade as the one Cortina used when she came there the first time. Dekin looked a bit weary, as if he’d been working extra hours all week. His green colouration was identical to Cortina’s. Why she saw the need to hide her natural colour even after everyone knew her identity, Silvia could only guess. Maybe she was about to find out.

 

“Hello Silvia,” Purdie greeted. Her tone was fairly even and contained no hint of animosity, but there was a wistfulness in her voice. Silvia understood that well.

 

“Hey,” she greeted in return. “Dekin, nice to see you again too.”

 

“Likewise.” He smiled broadly. That was something that hadn’t changed. “Sorry if we’re bothering you, Matron, but we wanted to talk to you about something.”

 

Silvia winced only slightly at her title and then nodded. “Come with me.” No sooner had she gestured that someone else came.

 

“Purdie!” Gyari walked up with his arms outstretched and clapped Purdie gently on the shoulders. “Been such a long time. I was hoping we’d see you again when your daughter started showing up.”

 

Purdie looked decidedly uncomfortable but she managed to avoid showing it in her mantle and forced a smile. “It has been a long time,” she acknowledged. “Um, this is my husband, Dekin.”

 

Dekin bravely held out his hand and Gyari shook it firmly. “Nice to finally meet you. ‘Fraid I can’t say I’ve heard much about you but with a daughter like that you can’t be all bad.” He laughed and Dekin chuckled, genuinely it seemed.

 

“Thanks. I’m proud of her. Is Katrina here too?”

 

“Nah, sorry. She went to that big concert that’s going on.”

 

“Oh, our daughter went there too, except she’s working. Maybe they’ll run into each other.”

 

“If you don’t mind,” Silvia interrupted. “Come with me to the RV and we’ll talk. Gyari, you might as well come.”

 

Silvia tried not to look irritated at the surprised look her husband gave her and started towards the RV, gesturing for them all to follow. The RV was old but still homey and she kept it tidy. She sat down at the table and Purdie and Dekin sat across from her. Gyari came in last, closing and locking the door before squeezing into place beside Silvia and she tried not to look uncomfortable.

 

“So,” Silvia began. “I’m guessing this is about what we found in your garage?”

 

Purdie and Dekin looked at her in surprise. “You came to our house?”

 

“Cortina invited Katrina and I over to see if we could help her with it. I think she would have eventually found it even if she hadn’t met us and I don’t think she would have needed anyone to tell her who it belonged to.”

 

Purdie and Dekin let out a collective breath, expressions tainted with regret and hindsight.

 

“We knew she’d find it eventually,” Purdie said. “We couldn’t bear to get rid of it but we didn’t know what we’d do when she found it.”

 

Dekin cracked a wry smile. “She gave us a whole speech tonight about it. She even through us off by asking to borrow the car beforehand, caught us off guard.” That wry smile turned into an expression of barely contained pride mixed with yet more regret. “She wasn’t mad at us or anything but I she did say we hurt her keeping it from her.”

 

“I’m not surprised.” Silvia glanced at Purdie who’s mantle darkened with waves of melancholy blues. “You had to know that Fulvia’s daughter would never be the kind to just stay at home and bake cookies. You may not like it but she’s got road warrior in her veins.” The two nodded solemnly.

 

“You should be glad,” Gyari spoke up suddenly, and their heads jerked up to stare at him. “Think about it; it’s like you have Fulvia back, at least as close as you’ll ever get, and the closest thing she’s gonna get.” His expression turned serious. “No kid ever gets over losing a parent, especially not their mother. Maybe this is just her way of keeping her close.”

 

“Keeping her close,” Purdie echoed softly. “Maybe. It’s not as if we’re opposed to her having the car. I think Fulvia would have wanted her to inherit it. What comes after that is what we’re worried about. She’s always chased after her mother. She says she doesn’t want to go into street racing and that you had another way for her to...” she looked at Dekin. “What did she say?”

 

“Experience and understand why driving made Fulvia happy, I think.”

 

Gyari smirked. “Is that all? That’s easy to do without racing. Plenty of people do the runs without getting into any battles.”

 

Silvia nodded, agreeing. “Purdie, Fulvia took you on plenty of Touge runs. She did that as often as she did any racing.”

 

Purdie frowned and her hand gripped Dekin’s tighter. “Maybe, but Fulvia was always driving and she had a lot of accidents before she got her skill up. She was in the hospital a few times and even wrecked her first car.”

 

Gyari and Silvie both nodded in unison, now understanding their main concern.

 

“If Fulvia were still alive,” Purdie continued. “I’m sure she would have ended up training Cortina, even without realizing it at first. I know she wanted to leave that life behind and didn’t want her daughter to end up in it but I think she was starting to miss it. Towards the end, she took that car out more and more, even taking Cortina with her a lot of the time.”

 

“Having kids changes one’s perspective,” Gyari said, his eyes somewhat distant. “And we all want the next generation to like a lot of the things we liked.”

 

Silvia nodded and folded her hands on the table. “So then, the question is how we train Cortina enough so that she doesn’t get in an accident. Even since we got our licences, basic driving school isn’t worth squit.”

 

“Got that right.”

 

“I guess that’s kind of why we’re here,” Dekin said. “I don’t think it would be right not giving her that car, she has a right to it, but we can’t just let her loose. I don’t know much about cars but I know that one is too much for someone of her level to handle.” He shrugged. “Plus it’s been sitting for a decade and probably needs some work.”

 

Silvia and Gyari both grimaced and said: “Definitely.”

 

“I don’t suppose either of you know anything about mechanics?” Gyari asked the question as if he already knew the answer. Both Purdie and Dekin shook their heads.

 

The problem was now obvious to Gyari and Silvia. Purdie and Dekin were willing to allow Cortina to pursue the passion of driving but didn’t know how to go about it properly. More specifically, they had no means of guiding her.

 

“I guess that leaves a large part of it up to us.” Silvia said with a shrug, but then she smiled. “By ‘us’ I mean the community as a whole.” She gestured to the purple matron’s scarf around her neck. “I might as well make this thing count for something.” Gyari grinned hugely and even the two across the table managed weak, hopefully smiles.

 

“What would we have to do?” Purdie asked.

 

“Well, first of all, you’re right, that car’s going to need some work, and a lot of it.” She had told Cortina as much but it didn’t look like she had mentioned it to her parents.

 

“Not as bad as if it were a newer car.” Gyari added, “but it still needs to be cleaned out and flushed. Probably be a good idea to take the whole engine apart and see what needs replacing. The list goes on.” He chuckled at their troubled expressions. “Don’t worry, you won’t be the ones doing the work.”

 

They frowned and Silvie grinned as she explained. “Cortina will be. It’ll force her to learn about mechanics and make her much more familiar with the car before she actually drives it. Even if the car’s rightfully hers, it’s probably best if she still earns it in some way.”

 

“So, conditions then?” Purdie squeezed her right bulb thoughtfully. “I thought about that but I had no idea what they would be. Making her fix it herself would take longer and give her time to get some driving experience, I suppose.”

 

“More than that,” Gyari said. “I think she should have to take Clio’s advanced driving course.” Silvia grimaced but Purdie and Dekin were both elated. “As far as technical driving skill is concerned, Clio’s the best. Combine that with the rest of the mentorship she’ll be getting and she’ll be an ace before she so much as takes Fulvia’s car off the jackstands.”

 

“That… would make me feel a lot better,” Purdie said with relief. “But it does sound expensive.”

 

“Don’t worry,” Gyari smirked. “She’ll be the one paying for it.” Dekin and Purdie looked at him incredulously but he just shrugged. “It’s a rite of passage for the community here. I can’t claim to know Fulvia as well as you but I can tell you she’d make Cortina go through the same thing. It's how you earn your spot on the road. You buy your own ride or, if you inherit one, you fix it up yourself and get it running again.” His expression turned sober. “You learn a lot through that process.”

 

“He’s right,” Silvia agreed, though it almost pained her to admit it. “Cortina has to earn her spots. If she wants to step into her mother’s world she’s going to have to deal with the stuff that comes with it. Everyone’s going to know who’s daughter she is so she’s going to need some credibility if she’s going to hold up.” She smiled. “Don’t worry. I know it seems like a lot for a kid to handle but if she’s serious about following in her mother’s footsteps, albeit not exactly, then she’ll do it.”

 

“Still seems like a lot,” Dekin said slowly. “Are you sure that much is necessary? It almost sounds like we’re doing everything to stop her from doing what she’s asked.”

 

Purdie shook her head slowly. “No, I understand it. Fulvia spent so much time with her car, even when she wasn’t driving it. She spent weeks looking for a replacement after she crashed her  _ Consul _ . When she did get it, she spent long nights driving it, just trying to decide how to make it the way she wanted it, and then she’d spend half the day and night under it, taking old parts off and putting different ones on.” She smiled ruefully. “Sometimes, I felt jealous of that car.”

 

Silvia and Gyari smile, their eyes twinkling with nostalgia. They had been the same way themselves at the time. Other people never understood it seemed. Perhaps some kids now could, the ones that spent endless hours perfecting their turf war techniques could understand the principle, but the majority of people didn’t comprehend why someone might spend so much time and money trying to perfect going around a hairpin turn.

 

“So…” Dekin looked around at all of them, somewhat lost. Silvia sympathized. He hadn’t known Fulvia back then. She had been so different after getting all domesticated the Fulvia they were talking about probably sounded like a different person entirely.

 

“So,” Purdie outlined. “Basically, she can have the car but she can only drive it when Auntie Silvia says she’s ready and earned it.”

 

“Darn right.” Silvia took out a slip of paper from a notepad she always kept on her and began writing a list. “These will be the conditions she’ll have to pass in order to drive it and even then I’m not letting her go burning down on the touge right away. She’s gonna’ have to work her way up. Trust me. By the time she’s done, she’ll be driving seven-tenths down the mountain and still leaving everyone in the dust.”

 

“I’m just gonna’ pretend I know what that means,” Dekin smiled, and Gyari laughed, reaching into the cooler across the centre aisle and handing him a bottle.

 

“Have a beer and let’s talk a little. I can’t imagine you’ll be going home right away.”

 

“Probably not with my car halfway across the city,” he grinned.

 

“I’ll find you a ride home,” Silvia smiled. “Gyari has to babysit.”

 

Gyari snorted with irony. “With a wife for almost every day of the week you’d think I”d never have to babysit.” Dekin shared a laugh with him and they clinked their bottles together while their wives rolled their eyes.

  
  
  


An hour later, Purdie and Dekin were in a taxi Silvia had managed to get up the mountain, hoping to get home before the throngs of people began vacating the concert hall and flooding the streets and sidewalks.

 

They both sat in the back, the humble cab much quieter than the rumbling and backfiring collection of autos they were leaving behind. It still felt like a foggy dream to Purdie, meeting Silvia for the first time since Cortina had been in single digits.

 

“She’s mellowed out,” she mumbled.

 

“Hm?” Dekin looked at her.

 

“I mean Silvia. She used to be a lot… angrier. Now she seems much more calm, relaxed. She was even like that in Gyari’s presence. He seems to have mellowed out quite a bit himself.”

 

“Maybe they cancel each other out somehow,” Dekin shrugged. “He seems alright though, not much like how you and Fulvia always described him.” He chewed on his lower lip thoughtfully. “I do think you’re right about Silvia though. She always seemed upset about something anytime she came over with Katrina for a playdate. Wish we could have seen her. I bet she’s gotten big.”

 

“She’s the same age as Cortina, plus a few months. Yes, I’d say she’s probably gotten big.” She grinned and then leaned her head on his. Despite the awkward angle caused by their difference in height, she never felt uncomfortable doing it.

 

“Cortina’s grown up so much the last couple of years. In no time she’ll be dating and moving out with her girlfriend.”

 

“You don’t think she’ll get a boyfriend first?”

 

“With you as a metre stick? What boy could possibly hope to match that?”

 

He chuckled. “True. I guess the house is going to end up pretty lonely. Funny, I can’t remember ever knowing ahead of time that Cortina would be out late. Normally she apologizes for it later after she gets home, sometimes not until the next day.”

 

“I can’t either.” Purdie’s face split in a sly smile and she let out a sensual purr as she nuzzled Dekin’s face. “So, I think we should take full advantage of it, don’t you?”

 

Dekin’s body stiffened with sudden excitement and then his own face smiled to match and he nuzzled back. “I think you’re right. Guess it’ll be a late night for us too, my perfect little flower.”

 

As they quietly whispered sweet nothings to each other in the back of the taxi, the driver, who pretended not to notice what was going on, silently and genuinely wished Dekin the best of luck.

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

“Good night Inkopolis, and stay fresh!”

 

The multitude screamed and cheered as the Squid Sisters struck their signature pose together for the first time in what felt like ages and then departed stage left, Callie waving both hands until they vanished into the darkness backstage.

 

Immediately, they were swarmed by a small host of attendants, handed damp towels to cool their bodies and then had bottles held under their funnels to allow a clean expulsion of hot ink. There wasn’t much left and the tiny amounts they released on stage were so small they were barely noticeable, but being able to expel this much ink spent to keep their bodies cool provided much relief, especially after two encores.

 

“That felt good,” Callie said, her voice barely audible over the fracas in the amphitheatre. “We should do stuff together more often.”

 

“Yeah.” Marie agreed. “Maybe we should form a band.”  They both laughed and that felt good. Being able to laugh after a performance was always a good thing.

 

They headed to their dressing room as the frenzy of post performance activity happened around them. They had only a brief respite before they had to deal with all the backstage passers and press.

 

Callie flinched as Three emerged from a dark shadow and fell into step behind them as if she had always been there and the younger Inkling couldn’t hide her cocky smile. Callie rolled her eyes and Marie grinned too. Three’s talent for stealth had always been one of her greatest assets and Silvie Sansea had trained her well.

 

The three of them entered the privacy of the dressing room and Marie gently tossed her little green hat onto the vanity countertop. In about ten minutes the makeup artists would return to touch them up and make them look perfectly pretty again, but for now, the Squid Sisters sat limply in their chairs like a pair of old rags.

 

“You put on a good show,” Three said quietly. “I wish I could have watched it properly.”

 

“Well you are there to bodyguard, not watch, so I guess that means you were doing your job.” Marie dragged her hands over her face tiredly and then lifted her head to look Three in the eye. “You know, Callie and I talked about having you on stage with us so you could guard us better.”

 

Three shuddered like a struck gong. The idea of going up on stage in front of all those people in a flashy outfit like theirs was more horrifying than facing down all the Great Octoweapons at once. The two performers giggled at her reaction.

 

“Don’t worry, we didn’t think about it too seriously.” Callie assured her. “Still, I bet it would be fun to do it once. You did join us on that one album.”

 

Three’s face turned sapphire and her mantle flashed a bright blue. “It was only one song and I’m not even close to as good as you two.”

 

“But your natural voice is so pretty.” Callie put her hands together and swooned softly. “I still listen to it every once in a while. We had such nice harmony as a trio.”

 

“We could do that again,” Marie said. “We weren’t the only ones who liked it and nobody would suspect our bodyguard as the source of that wonderful voice.” Three let out an embarrassed whine and the two cousins laughed, setting about getting a headstart on their makeup artists.

 

“Hey Three, wanna come home with us tonight?”

 

Three looked at Callie and then shook her head. “I have to bring my parent’s car back.”

 

“Don’t bother.” Marie told in a matter-of-fact tone. “The traffic is going to be insane and you’ll have to wait hours to get out anyway. Come out with us on the helicopter once you’re done and we’ll bring you back tomorrow to pick it up on our way to congregation.”

 

Three pursed her lips thoughtfully. It would help her avoid any damage to the car from hasty, careless, drivers trying find magic routes around the traffic, or just plain unattentive. She was tired as well. It had been a long week for her and helping the guards keep paparazzi and trespassers out from backstage had been a chore.

 

“We could hang out and talk a little before bed.” Callie offered. “It’s been a while since we just sat down and chilled together. Usually we only talk when something’s happening.”

 

Three gave it another moment of thought and then finally nodded. It wouldn’t be the first time she was away from home all night. As long as she left a text her parents would understand. 

 

“Great.” Marie patted her on the arm and then unclipped her tentacles from behind her head.

 

“So far, this trial is going very well, Three.”

 

“About my being your full-time bodyguard?”

 

“Full-time whenever Gramps doesn’t need you. We’ll try a few more trials and then see if we can make things work.”

 

“Sure.” Three didn’t know what it was but she had a feeling there was something Marie wasn’t telling her. Three didn’t let it bother her though. If Marie wasn’t telling it was because she wasn’t sure or was still trying to work it out in her head. Maybe there was more to having a bodyguard than Three was realizing. She had only considered it from her own perspective.

 

_ I hope it doesn’t mean I have to wear a dress like Eight does, _ she thought. Eight really did look cute in that dress though. It was a stark contrast to the sythleather uniform she had first seen her in. She wondered what Eight was doing tonight.

 

_ What are Dad and Iya doing tonight? _ She had to wonder that too. What conclusion had they come to? Had they decided to let her have the car or not? What would she do if they didn’t? Actually, she hadn’t really thought too hard about what to do with the car when if they accepted her request.

 

Three clutched her head.  _ I’m so dumb! _

 

“You okay Three?” Callie’s gentle concern pulled Three from her thoughts.

 

“Just, thinking about what my parents might have decided.”

 

“Ah.” Callie nodded understanding and then turned back to the vanity. “Don’t worry about it tonight. You’re stuck with us right now so there’s no point to it. You’ll just stress yourself out otherwise. Calm, Three, calm.”

 

Three nodded and took several deep breaths, but she couldn’t shake the nagging feeling in her gut that something involving her was going on.

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Pearl cackled softly to herself as she read the email on her laptop screen. It looked exactly as she hoped and once it was finished she would put the final phase of her master revenge plan into motion. If she misread Three, even slightly, she might not cooperate, but hopefully, a little gentle encouragement from a very cute Eight in her maid uniform would be all she needed.

 

She chuckled evilly at the thought of using Callie and Marie’s own little prank against them like that, however indirectly.

 

“Look out girls; I’m going to make you squirm like worms on a scalding sidewalk.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is mostly about Three's parents., and I suppose Katrina's as well. As a parent, you want the best for your child but sometimes that's hard to do if you know you're child wants to do this dangerous thing. Your instinct is to protect them, but sometimes, loving your child means letting them get hurt.
> 
> How will this involve Agent 8 somehow? You'll have to keep reading to find out ;)


	18. Less Than Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eight finds Four feeling low. Why is she so down?

Three tapped the steering wheel nervously as she drew closer to home. She couldn’t keep her anxiousness down, wondering what conclusion her parents had come to, whether or not to let her keep the car or not. She still hadn’t thought of what she would do in either case and she cursed herself for that lack of forethought.

As she pressed the garage door opener and carefully drove in, she consoled herself with the fact that she had returned the car unmolested. She eased inside until the dangling tennis ball bumped against the windshield and then turned the car off.

Before heading inside, she briefly stared at the squarish shape of her mother’s car hidden under the dusty tarp. Even now, a part of her yearned for it. Even though she had never driven it, a part of her still remembered riding in it, and lately those memories had been slowly bubbling to the surface with varying degrees of clarity. One thing that had been clear in all of them had been her mother’s delight and happiness. Not merely having fun in her car, but having fun in her car with her.

Maybe I can have fun with someone in this car someday too. She thought wistfully and then quashed that thought. It was her loneliness speaking up again. She was still too young to really start dating in earnest and besides that, she was going to be too busy anyway if she was going to be Callie and Marie’s full-time bodyguard in the near future. Putting that thought aside, she left the garage and headed into the house through the back door.

“I’m home,” she called. It was past nine-thirty. Many Inklings would still be in bed around now, but her father was one of those early birds among their species and her iya tended to follow him.

She entered the living room and gently touched her forehead to her mother’s photo and gave her customary greeting.

“Welcome home,” Purdie greeted sleepily from the kitchen table. She looked like she hadn’t slept all night. She couldn’t see her father from behind the newspaper he was reading but something told her he hadn’t gotten much sleep either.

“Thanks.”

Three sat down at the table and looked at them. Purdie seemed to remember something and retrieved a small slip of paper from atop the kitchen counter before sitting back down. She slid it across the table to her and Three stared at it. It appeared to be a list of some kind, a long one.

Three coloured her mantle curious spots of yellow, asking what it was she was looking at. Purdie took a sip of her coffee before answering.

“It’s the list of conditions before you can drive your mother’s car.”

Three’s eyes lit up and her mantle flared to a bright orange. They were really going to let her have it! She stared down at the paper and frowned as she began to read.

“Before you can drive the car,” Purdie began. “You’ll have to fix it yourself. You can have help and instruction but you can’t have anyone doing it for you unless it’s something that needs properly trained or expert hands.

“You’ll also need to attend the advanced driving school and then get trained under Silvia. Once she says it’s alright and once the car is fixed, then she might let you drive it then.” She fixed Three with firm eyes and Three stared back, transfixed.

“We’ll pay for the insurance on the car until it’s ready and you take over, but everything else will be up to you, Cortina. Understand? If you want this car you’re going to have to take responsibility for it and learn how to drive it properly. If you want to experience driving the way your mother did, then you’re going to have to work up to it and earn it.”

Three stared back down at the paper, her mind whirling as she absorbed it all, fighting fresh waves of shame as she confronted the fact her parents had thought more about how she would use the car than she did. Then again, her iya knew better than she how this whole car thing worked so maybe it was just parental duty.

She looked back up towards her father but he remained hidden and silent behind his newspaper. She met Purdie’s eyes and then slowly nodded. “I’ll do whatever I have to.”

“It will be hard and a lot of work.” She warned. “If you don’t have the drive and the passion, it’ll end up half hearted and that won’t be good enough for Silvia. She’s going to be harder on you because you’re Fulvia’s daughter, not easier.”

Three snorted. “I’m not afraid of tough training or hard work. I’m not a stranger to it either.” Three couldn’t see his face but she could practically feel her father radiating pride behind his newspaper shield.

“We’ll see,” Purdie grinned smugly but Three grinned right back. She didn’t expect Silvia to be any less than tough and demanding but neither she nor her iya had met Silvie Sansea, former security officer and member of Inkopolis Security’s elite Enforcers. She had been the one to train Three in close combat and stealth. Combined with Callie and Marie’s training regimens, she was confident she could handle whatever Silvia dished out.

She leaned forward, her heart brimming with confidence. “How do we start?”

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Eight didn’t think it was possible for Inkopolis to be so quiet, until her first Sunday on the surface. With this being her third one, Eight still found it eerie how such a large city full of so many flamboyant and active creatures that refused to sleep, except in the early morning, could suddenly become so barren.

Sunday’s were the Inkling’s spiritual day. A day when they refreshed themselves and spent time with family and contemplating the spiritual realm. That was how Pearl had explained it, but even then, Eight had been able to detect the facetiousness in her voice. In truth, Inklings spent a large part of the morning and sometimes part of the afternoon attending congregations, gatherings of a spiritual nature in which there was singing, worship, and ministry.

Eight wasn’t unfamiliar with the concept, they had similar things in the Octarian army, but unlike the Inklings, they didn’t have a designated day. They had to try and fit it into their schedule as best they could, with the temple maidens and priestesses often coming personally to remote outposts in order to minister to the troops and keep their spiritual health high. Some days, that was the only thing that kept them going.

With most of the Inklings otherwise occupied, it fell upon the non-Inkling residents to take up the slack. Eight had probably spoken more Octese today than she had even on Friday at the car meet. A great many octolings had taken up the positions left in the mornings and Eight was glad to see so many of her kind working good jobs and earning a living. As a result, Eight had her arms loaded with fresh groceries, on her way back to the penthouse.

Eight was just crossing the shopping district plaza when she spotted a familiar figure shambling like an exhausted trainee about to collapse into their cot for the night. Was that Four? Why did she look so upset?

Eight hurried over to her and called out but Four didn’t respond. She was so deep in the dark pit of her own thoughts that Eight had to lightly kick the back of her leg to get her attention. Startled, Four turned around and then blinked in surprise before she recognized Eight in her maid uniform.

“Oh, hey Eight.”

“Hello yourself.” Eight tried not to seem overly concerned but she couldn’t help showing it on her face. “You’re early. I thought you weren’t supposed to be back until the evening.”

There was a quick ripple of warning yellow and orange through Four’s mantle; though it was difficult to tell through her yellow-orange natural colour, but the blue ripple that followed contrasted it sharply.

“Well, just, stuff happened, you know? I guess I just really missed the big city and wanted to get out of the country.” She let out a nervous laugh but even as a deflection it only felt halfhearted to Eight.

Eight couldn’t let it stay like this. Four was someone who had personally helped guide her through the complex and still not understood Inkopolis social structure and a valuable companion, a friend. She was normally so happy and energetic that seeing her like this was almost heartbreaking.

“Say, do you have some time to help me?” Eight asked, holding up her bag laden arms. “This is getting pretty heavy and I still have a way to go to get home.”

Four brightened, uplifted by the change in subject and, perhaps, a chance to occupy her mind with something else.

“Sure! Let me take some of those off you.”

Four took half the bags herself and the two walked the remaining distance to the penthouse. Eight offered some ice cream in exchange for her help and Four happily accepted. Eight found Four’s genuine smile so much better. The colour of her mantle was so warm and happy, it suited her much better.

As they walked, Eight told Four about her weekend. The car meet, the amazing things she saw there, and holding Three’s hand. From there, she talked about the lunch date with Three at the buffet and the film Cinderella.

Eight was relieved that talking about her own amazing weekend seemed to brighten Four’s mood. It said something good about a person that delighted in someone else’s happiness even while they drowned in misery of their own.

After Four helped her put the groceries away, Eight took out the ice cream and they both sat at the kitchen island.

Awkward silence passed between them. The previous conversation had run its course and Eight wasn’t sure how to gently segue into asking Four what had her so despondent. She tried to guess why Four might be depressed in the first place but she didn’t know much about Four’s life back home and any number of things could have happened. The only thing she did know was that Four was supposed to attend a dance and...oh...

“Four,” she said very gently. “Did something happen at the dance?”

Four didn’t flinch but her mantle rippled again, something Eight had finally learned indicated suppressed emotions, most of the time anyway. Her hand holding her spoon clenched into a tight first but her eyes didn’t look up.

Eight reached over and touched her other hand, rubbing the top of it with her thumb in small soothing circles. “Four,” she repeated. “We’re friends. Can’t we talk to each other about these things?”

Four’s lips pressed into a thin line, her brow creasing with deep thought as she weighed whether to speak or not on the scales of her mind. Eight waited patiently and in total silence until, finally, Four took in a deep breath and let it out with great care.

“Things started out so good,” she began, her voice unusual frail. “I met Mom and Dad and my sister, Dana. We talked and caught up and Dana asked me if I’d become a total city slicker.” She smiled but it looked brittle to Eight. “We talked and Dana went to the dance ahead of me. Mom and Dad saw my dress and were blown away.”

She laughed but it sounded to Eight like breaking glass. It twisted Eight’s hearts and she almost wanted to cover her ears before Four got to the bad part, but she forced herself to listen, for her friend’s sake. Maybe the fact that Four was normally so cheerful and full of life was why this seemed more difficult than it should be. When Four resumed speaking, it was in another very soft voice.

“I went to the dance, and everyone looked at me like I was- like I was some kind of celebrity or something.”

“Like Cinderella?” Eight grinned and her soul lifted as she saw a genuinely happy smile on Four’s face again. Her dulled mantle seemed to regain it’s natural vibrance and her cheeks tinted blue as she continued.

“I just walked in and then, after a while, boys started asking me to dance. It was like a dream. For once, I was the girl all the guys wanted to dance with, I wasn’t just some wallflower everyone ignored.” She brought a hand to her chest and shuddered as her smile vanished, and her mantle turned a blue that Eight could only describe as sorrowful.

She saw Four’s jaw clench and her hands balled into fists as she fought to control the tide of emotions swelling up within her. “Everything was perfect that night. I went to bed feeling like I’d lived a dream.” She sniffled. “But the next day, my own sister wouldn’t talk to me, none of my friends wanted to even be seen with me; everyone treated me like I was a stranger.”

Eight’s mouth slowly fell open, her brows furrowed deeply with confusion. “But, why?”

“I don’t really know. My parents didn’t know either, but I felt like everyone had turned their backs on me. I mean, even my own sister acted like I didn’t exist and slept over at someone else’s house last night instead of our room. It’s like she doesn’t love me anymore.”

Tears were now flowing freely and Four abandoned all pretense of emotional control. Her body shook as if freezing, her face was flushed, and her fists were clenched so tightly her fingers were visibly bending.

“I didn’t sleep all night,” she croaked. “I just stayed there and cried by myself. I couldn’t take it anymore and decided to just come home early.”

“Home.” Eight echoed the word, not because she didn’t think of it as home but because Four had previously called Little Reef her home, at least in an emotional sense. Eight now better understood why Four felt so crushed: she didn’t feel welcome in the place she had considered home. In a sense, she had lost it.

A hand gently landed on Four’s head that wasn’t Eight’s, and the octoling jumped as she realized Marina and Pearl had returned home. Four only seemed dimly aware and didn’t react when Marina hugged her. Eventually though, Four hugged her back tightly, sobbing into her chest.

Marina stayed with Eight until she started to calm down, and then Pearl and Eight brought them all tea. Pearl then took over, stroking Four’s head like a caring sister.

“Sorry we had to hear that, Four.” The older Inkling said in a casual but affectionate tone. “We just came in and we didn’t want to announce ourselves and make things awkward. Besides, it looked like you needed to get all that out.”

Four nodded slowly and sipped her tea. “I just don’t know what happened. Why did everyone act like they hated me all of a sudden?”

Pearl sighed. “Was the dress you wore the one you got from the House of Arachne?” Four nodded and then Pearl nodded in return. “Yeah, I figured. That’s probably why.” Four and Eight stared at her and Pearl pinched her nose as she thought of how best to explain.

“Four, were you a very popular kid?”

Four grimaced and shook her head. “No. I wasn’t bullied or anything, but I wasn’t the sort everyone wanted to hang out with. My sister was the popular one. I was always just happy to be involved in anything anyone would let me join in with.”

The savage grin that spread across Pearl’s face seemed wholly inappropriate for the situation but Marina seemed to smile at Pearl’s expression.

“You showed them up,” Pearl told the suddenly perplexed Four. “They remembered you as the little tag-along girl and the last girl picked for the team. The girl who they knew because they were friends with her sister and they always thought themselves better than.” Pearl’s savage grin now showed her shiny, white beak. “And then, after that girl goes to the city and gets out of their little corner of the world, she comes back and everyone thinks she’s the same, until she comes to the ball in that ultra nice dress and gets all the boys.”

Eight still wasn’t sure she fully understood what Pearl was getting at but she completely understood the concept of that one person that nobody really liked but tolerated because they were occasionally useful. The kind whom nobody cried if they went away. She had been that person more than once.

Four swallowed. “But.. but my sister…” she started to say, but Pearl shook her head.

“Your sister probably always thought she’d be the popular one, the ‘better’ sister. That happens sometimes with siblings. She was always the ‘older sister’ right?” A nod. “Well, you pretty much destroyed her whole world view. You’ve gotten ahead of her and she’s gonna resent you for it.”

Four looked visibly shaken. Her eyes moved rapidly as her mind sifted through memories to compare her experiences with Pearl’s explanation of events. Eight watched with aching in her soul as she saw Four come to the same realization. She looked like she was going to cry again, but she had run out of tears to shed.

“Hey,” Pearl whispered gently. “I’m sure your sister will come around eventually. She’ll still love you, you just shook up her world a little. It happens more easily to people who try to stay in their sheltered little part of the world where they don’t have to worry about other people that might be better than they are.”

“Pearlie,” Marina said in a warning tone and Pearl cleared her throat, realizing she had said a bit too much.

“Look, Four, you’re the brave one, the one that wanted to become more than some country yokel. You weren’t afraid to face the world and now that you have, you know you can live in it without being worried all the time. Plus, here, you have real, actual friends, and heck, two of ‘em are the biggest celebrities in the whole freakin’ world. Your friends and family don’t even know that much. Imagine how much they’d freak if they knew.”

Pearl started laughing and, to Eight’s relief, Four smiled a little.

“Thank you, Pearl.”

“It’s what I’m here for.” She winked, proud of her little pun and Four giggled. Then, her face turned serious again.

“What am I going to tell Marie? She bought the dress for me for the ball. She’s going to want to know how it went. I don’t want her to think it was all her fault.”

Pearl snorted. “You really think she could have become the biggest celebrity in the world if she didn’t have thick skin? People used to bring up that whole mess with the restraining order against her all the time in their earlier days so I’m pretty sure she can handle this.”

Four’s eyes went wide while Eight’s brows furrowed in confusion.

“Huh?” Four asked dumbly. “Marie has a restraining order against her?”

“You don’t know? It’s not exactly a secret. People thought it would stand in the way of her ever becoming popular, even told Callie she’d be better off solo.”

Eight and Four leaned in close. “What happened?”

Pearl shrugged. “Apparently she tried to kill three boys when she was a kid. It’s kinda’ ironic but the only one that actually got away is the one that has the restraining order against her. I remember seeing the whole issue covered in a TV special about Marie after she started her solo career. So, yeah, you really don’t need to worry about hurting Marie’s feelings by telling her about it. The truth is best. Besides, she’s a country girl too. I bet she and Callie both had to deal with what you did.”

“And you?” Eight asked. “Did you suffer the same thing?”

Pearl smiled and shrugged. “Maybe a little, but I had a… different perspective than Four.” Pearl looked away and Eight frowned, not understanding what she meant by that.

“I’d better go,” Four said, standing up. “Marie will be waiting to hear from me.” She turned to her hosts. “Thanks for… everything.” She bowed and her mantle flashed through a series of colours, shades, with waves and spots of colour mixed in. Eight found it a baffling, albeit a pretty display. Pearl appeared to understand without difficulty and saw her out.

“Well, I’d say that went well,” Pearl smiled as she came back to the living room. “So, what do you girls want to do for the rest of the day?”

Eight only half participated in the discussion that followed, because she, like Four, only had one thing on their mind. The fact that Marie, as a child, had tried to murder three other children. Why? How? Eight couldn’t reconcile that with the Marie she knew. Marie was a skilled combatant, of course, but not a cold-blooded murderer. But then, Pearl hadn’t fully accepted just how dangerous and deadly Three was either.

Did it change anything? Practically, no it didn’t, but Eight and Four would never be able to look at Marie quite the same again.


	19. Orange Sun, Silver Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three confronts all the new challenges put her way while Eight tries to help Four get over her terrible weekend.

Three watched anxiously as her mother’s old, little, red car was winched onto the back of the flatbed. The truck driver had to pump up the tires, but despite their age, they held their air.

 

The car looked very different in the light of the day. It’s paint was faded somewhat but it still shone, and the car was able to show off it’s muscular profile with its bulging fenders and fat tires. It triggered long forgotten memories in Three’s mind. They were hazy but she vaguely remembered her mother carrying her out to this car to go for a drive.

 

She blinked back tears as the image of her mother’s face flashed in front of her, the sound of her voice stirring something deep within her. That part of her that would always recognize and respond to her mother’s sweet voice, the sound of her hearts beating, that part of her that had been there since she first formed in her egg.

 

Three shuddered as Purdie gently placed a hand on her head and rubbed it gently. Her iya’s mantle produced soothing blues and that moving wave pattern that was instinctively relaxing to all Inklings.

 

The flatbed’s deck settled into place and the truck’s driver began to fasten down the car with straps and chains.

 

To Three’s left, Silvia let her arms rest at her side, looking slightly relieved. “Well, looks like everything should go perfectly from here. I’ll make sure everything is set up for you at the workshop.” Three acknowledged with a brief flash of brighter green but Purdie still looked apprehensive.

 

“Are you sure this is the best idea? I would have felt better keeping it at home.”

 

Silvia sighed. “Purdie, we’ve all been over this. You don’t have the tools to do more than basic maintenance here at home and you’d have to send the car out anyway to get the specialty work done. Besides, she’ll have a lot more room to work at the shop and she’ll have plenty of people there she can ask questions. I know it’s like seeing a member of the family go away but it’ll be back eventually.” Purdie nodded slowly but Three’s mantle rippled slightly and Silvia noticed.

 

“Something wrong?” She expected a flash of green insisting that all was well, but instead, the teen’s mantle showed apprehension with splotches of dark orange and pale blues in a pattern that roughly translated as “change is coming” but for children her age, that usually meant something else. She glanced at Purdie, but it appeared she hadn’t noticed her daughter’s omen.

 

Three pairs of eyes watched the truck as it burbled away, and behind each of those pairs, a mind whirred with thoughts of the past and the future, none busier than that of Cortina Scarletteri.

 

Three rode with Silvia as she drove the two of them to the flatbed truck’s final destination and arrived just in time to see the car being carefully tucked into a small garage. Just one in a line of many garages, all connected to each other in a row that had to contain at least twenty. The garage doors also appeared more like the locked metal shutters that were pulled down to secure buildings at night. That gave Three just a little more peace of mind.

 

They pulled into a parking spot and one of the coveralled figures who had pushed the car into its temporary home walked over.

 

He looked about middle-aged, slightly older than Silvia herself, with a mantle of sky blue and matching eyes. When he stepped up to them, Three found herself directly at eye level with him.

 

“Gotta, say,” he said in a raspy voice. “I never thought I’d see that car around here again. Feeling kinda’ choked up.”

 

Silvia smiled and put a hand on Three’s head. “This is Fulvia’s little spawn. You’ll be seeing her a lot over the next little while. Cortina, this is Rex. He worked on your mother’s car a few times back in the day.”

 

Rex gave her a toothy grin. “Hey there, little lady. Didn’t think Fulvia would be the one to have the kid first. Always figured Purdie was more the type.”

 

Three managed a small, crooked smile. She had thought the same thing herself more than a few times. She considered herself much the same way. Only her private vow to bear as many young as she reasonably could to continue her mother’s genetic legacy gave her any drive to become a mother herself. Even that had been a half-hearted vow at best but one she told herself she would carry out if she could.

 

Rex brought them into the small garage, big enough to allow a meter of space on either side of the car a meter from the door and at least two meters from the back wall. Enough to provide ample space to work on such a small car.

 

He pointed out the pneumatic lines that could be used to power air tools and explained the process of borrowing tools from the shop if need be. But long term use had to be provided by tools she bought herself. He specifically mentioned jacks and jackstands, in a way that clearly indicated it was a sore point. Three made note of that.

 

His explanation done, he handed Three the keys to the car and a key to the garage’s reinforced door. He gave a two-fingered salute and marched off towards the noise of the workshop.

 

Three stared at the car sat comfortably in the garage, feeling a little numb. Now it was here, what was she to do now? She had an objective: to repair and get her mother’s car working again. But she had no idea how to start.

 

Silvia sensed her worries and rubbed her head affectionately. “Don’t worry, you’ll have plenty of time to figure it out. You’re not going to get anything done today. Just try to think of questions and then ask people at the meet. Hopefully they’ll be able to give you an answer.”

 

Three nodded, but the weight of what she was undertaking was starting press on her. She knew nothing of mechanics, and only basic electronics from her training in the NSS. Marie had been very insistent she learn certain skills but car mechanics had not been among them, unfortunately. She did, however, know at least two people who did know something about mechanics and machines in general, but asking them was going to be difficult, oh so difficult. What made it worse was that the only thing making it difficult, was herself.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

When Eight had suggested going out together at night, this hadn’t been what Four pictured. 

 

For the first time since she first arrived in Inkopolis, she felt out of place. Her bright, block-patterned yellow and orange shirt and shorts were like a neon sign compared to the darker clothing worn by almost everyone around her, particularly the octolings in their personalized leather uniforms.

 

Eight leaned over and spoke close to her ear. “It’s a lot to take in at first, but once you get past that it’s actually quite fun and everyone’s very friendly.”

 

Four nodded absently but she was still taking it all in. There was so much noise and activity it almost felt like Inkopolis Square, but the nature of it was different, the feel of the place.

 

Unlike the Square, this place wasn’t all freshness and youth. It reeked of history and old glories in a way that reminded Four of the dilapidated bars and restaurants back in Little Reef where the older folk tended to hang out. Unlike those places, however, this place had plenty of youth. None of the octolings looked older than their twenties, and she saw plenty of Inklings her own age wondering between the rows of modified cars, nearly all of which appeared modified or at least personalized in some way. It was as if those old places and the Square had come together in a harmony Four hadn’t thought possible outside of congregations.

 

“And you’re saying Three invited you to this place?” She gave Eight a dubious look. “This doesn’t seem like something she’d be into.”

 

Eight merely shrugged, offering no explanation, and decided to voice her own question instead. “What should I call you? I can’t call your ‘Four’ here of all places.”  _ ‘Not with all the octolings,’  _ she didn’t have to add _. _

 

“Just call me ‘Tani’.” 

 

‘Tani’?” Eight repeated the name as if to test it. “Is that your real name?”

 

“Tani Highwater.” She said with a genuine smile. “That’s my name alright.” She felt a twinge of pain as reciting her surname reminded her of her current self-imposed estrangement from her family, but she let it pass. However, it did trigger another question.

 

“What’s your name? Do you go by ‘Eight’ here too?”

 

Eight smiled sheepishly. “I told everyone that most of my friends call me ‘Eight.’ The other octolings thought that was amusing.”

 

“Okay, but, did you tell them your name? Wouldn’t they think it weird if one of your friends doesn’t know your name but they do?”

 

“I never told them.” She grinned. “I’ll tell you, someday.”

 

“Cheat,” Four accused but she grinned back. “Come on. You dragged me here so we better have some fun.” She pushed her fingers into her cheeks to force her smile bigger. “I promised to be super positive and happy so you better deliver.”

 

“I will,” Eight assured her. “Come on, I’ll show you to some of the people I know here.”

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Katrina Trailmaker couldn’t help but feel bitter at the best of times. Lately, that bitterness had been festering into an ugly infection in the back of her mind, creating an almost irrational dislike of Maiya Scarletteri, or whatever her real name was.

 

It wasn’t about who her mother was. Even if she had beaten her father she had obviously made no effort to slander his name and had simply decided to quit while she was ahead. Many still called it cowardly, but as someone caught in the middle of all too many arguments between the old queens and the conqueror whose wives they had become, Katrina understood why Fulvia Scarletteri would have wanted to simply get away.

 

No, the reason had more to do with her own mother’s actions than anything Maiya had done directly, for Silvia Trailmaker had been treating the partially orphaned girl like a second daughter. To add insult to injury, her mother and father had actually been talking to each other in a somewhat civil manner recently, and it had been because the cause around Maiya was something they both agreed on. It hadn’t been out of any desire to make home life better for their own flesh and blood daughter, at least, not on her mother’s part. 

 

She had always gotten along with her father and always considered her mother to be the problem in the relationship. It was her mother who constantly held onto the humiliating feeling of defeat and refused to accept that she had been soundly and fairly beaten. The fact that Maiya had been able to bring them together, even a little bit, where she had failed for years, stung badly. And yet, despite all that, she couldn’t bring herself to hate Maiya, no matter how hard she tried.

 

Katrina grunted and stood to her feet. She tended to brood and stew if she sat around too long. She decided to make her rounds and see if anything new was going on. The octolings were prolific modders and she was genuinely interested in their projects.

 

She found the familiar trio of battered old vans and made her way over. They appeared already engaged in a lively conversation with someone and it was attracting attention from nearby circles.

 

She made her way through, her own status enough to make people step out of her way until she reached the scene of mild comotion.

 

The octolings appeared transfixed, watching someone drawing a pattern on a piece of white cardboard with a collection of colourful markers. With so many bodies in the way, it was almost impossible for Katrina to get a look. 

 

Across from them was a familiar looking octoling, one of the two that Maiya had invited, the one called ‘Eight’ if she remembered right. Did that mean Maiya was here now?

 

“And done!”

 

A chorus of gasps from the spectators came out as the white carboard’s face was pointed in their direction, revealing a splendid and colourful art piece that Katrina thought would not have looked out of place in an art gallery.

 

A head peered out from behind the cardboard, revealing to Katrina the brightest, most shining smile she had ever seen. Combined with a yellow mantle that blended to orange as it neared the tips of her tentacles, it reminded Katrina of a sunrise on a clear morning. She felt her inside knot briefly and had to forcibly stop the churning of her emotions, almost afraid of being pulled out of her blue funk.

 

The orange Inkling, who appeared younger than everyone else, then helped a couple of the octolings mount the cardboard panel on the inside of the van. It made an immediate difference, adding colour and life to it’s somewhat drab and spartan interior.

 

“Now it’s starting to look like a home from the magazines.” One octoling said.

 

“All you need is a little creativity and you can save a ton of money,” the yellow Inkling said grinning. “That way, you can spend it where you really need to.” She turned her head and their eyes met.

 

“Hey there, girl! You look like you could use some colour in your life too.” She waved a bright yellow marker and Katrina scowled. 

 

“You come near me with that marker and I’ll shove it so far up your funnel it’ll turn your tongue yellow.”

 

Katrina’s scowl combined with her cold glare was well known in the community. Few in her age group could stand up to it, but against this stranger, it seemed more like a firehose against a dam, her smile not wavering or diminishing in the slightest. The fact that the girl now standing in front of her couldn’t have been more than fifteen, at least a year younger than she was, only made it worse.

 

The octolings stood by, watching the two with a mix of apprehension and the same sort of fascination someone would have watching two aggressive animals interact, waiting to see what carnage they might inflict on the other.

 

Eight came up behind the yellow stranger and gently pulled her back. “Apologies, princess Katrina. This is Tani Highwater. She’s a friend of mine and I brought her here. I hope you don’t mind.”

 

_ ‘I mind,’ _ was what Katrina wanted to say, but she didn’t want to admit to a younger kid getting under her skin so quickly and easily. Her pride wouldn’t allow it. She was forced to admit that most of the hostility she felt towards this girl was due to her own festering bitterness and she cursed her own weakness.

 

“No, it’s what we’re here for.” Katrina forced her response to come out even, but it took more effort than she would have liked. “Is there anything in particular you like?” The question was one of many in a list of standard, survey type questions she had amassed over the years.

 

“Nah, just hanging out.” Tani shrugged and gestured back to the van. “But I guess people making new homes out of vans is kinda’ neat.”

 

“Octolings are pretty inventive.” Katrina didn’t know why she was trying to carry a conversation with this girl, but something compelled her. Maybe it was that big bright smile that seemed to burn at her inner walls like grass under a magnifying glass in the summertime and that vine of bitterness around her hearts started to crack and wither.

 

“Oh, I know.” Tani grabbed Eight and pulled her into a sideways hug. “I’m friends with one. She’s super clever.”

 

Katrina felt stuck, not knowing what else to say. Conversation had never been her strong suit. Then, a jubilant sound drew her attention behind her, where she saw Hani and her group accepting Squid Sisters keychains and cell phone straps from a somewhat sheepish looking Maiya.

 

Katrina felt the thorny grip of bitterness in her again. The whole goody-goody image she was showing just now only made it worse somehow.

 

“Hey Th-Maiya!” Tani yelled, waving her hand as they approached. “Great to see you could come too. Have you seen what those octolings have been doing to those vans? I’m thinking I might do that some day and travel around the country.”

 

Maiya’s mantle, currently that brown shade she insisted on wearing whenever she came to the car meets, briefly turned green with acknowledgement and then blinked several times in a non-verbal phrase that could be literally interpreted as “proceed,” but in this context, meant that Tani should go ahead with that idea.

 

“Yeah, I totally should. Hey Eight, you’ll come when I do it, won’t you? I’d be lonely going by myself.”

 

“Oh, I don’t know. I mean, I have my work…”

 

“You’re entitled to something called ‘vacation time’ in Inkopolis.” Hani explained. “I’m sure that you would be allowed at least one week to go on a trip. As great as the city is, there must be more to see elsewhere.”

 

Eight looked perplexed and Katrina grimaced at the notion that anyone would be unfamiliar with the concept of vacation. She didn’t know much about the place all the octolings had come from but what she had heard, it wasn’t a pleasant place in the least.

 

She glanced at Maiya who appeared disinterested in the conversation, as if it were a topic she had heard all too many times. The two then locked eyes and, for some reason, Katrina found her own gaze to be the one that wavered. That wasn’t something she was used to and she found herself suddenly feeling under pressure.

 

“S-so, you dropped your car off at the shop, right?” She hadn’t wanted to start a conversation with her but it helped relieve some of the apprehension she was feeling, as if her words produced a wall between them. Maiya’s response was another flash of affirmative.

 

“You have a car now?” Hani suddenly burst between them, eyes flashing with excitement and standing on the tips of her toes. Three stepped back from Hani and then nodded slowly. Katrina was beginning to suspect she had experience dealing with octolings, or at least other species who couldn’t comprehend the color language. More interesting to her, however, was that Three seemed distinctly uncomfortable with Hani being so close and enthusiastic. Katrina couldn’t help but use that for her own amusement.

 

“Yeah, Mom had it brought to Rex’s shop this morning. It’s just like it was way back when her mom had it.” Katrina said.

 

“Oh, I can’t wait to see you driving it around!” Hani said, her excitement undiminished. “I’ve heard so much about it.”

 

“I didn’t know you had a car either.” The soft voice, like falling snow, was barely audible above the ruckus around them, and it came from Eight.

 

Eight and Maiya shared a look and, for just a second, Katrina thought she saw guilt on the other Inkling’s face. Why?

 

She thought she saw the flicker of something in Maiya’s mantle when Tani suddenly wrapped an arm around her waist and start leading her away.

 

“Hey, uh, princess? Why don’t you take me on a tour and show me around? You’re supposed to be hostess or something, right?”

 

“Huh, what?” That was all the protest she managed to get out before Tani hurried them even further along. They didn’t stop until they reached a more secluded spot near the back of the parking lot.

 

“What’s going on,” Katrina demanded the instant they stopped.

 

Tani laughed breathlessly and gave her an apologetic smile that made her emotional walls shiver.

 

“Sorry about that. Th- uh, Maiya’s not the most social person, as you’ve probably seen.” She had, but that didn’t explain anything.

 

“So what? Why drag me away instead of her just going away by herself?”

 

“Oh, I just needed to kinda’ break up the conversation group so that she and Eight could get away clean. Plus, I thought you looked pretty fresh and wanted to talk to you.”

 

Katrina blinked but reverted back into her usual closed off self. “How old are you?”

 

“I’m fourteen,” Tani answered without missing a beat.

 

Katrina snorted. “I’m sixteen. You’re too young to be hitting on me, kid.”

 

Tani giggled, a sound like ringing bells, and Katrina felt her emotions waver again. “Is that how it sounded? Sorry, I didn’t really mean it that way.”

 

Katrina huffed. “Sure you didn’t.” 

 

This time, Tani laughed. “Sorry, did I disappoint you?” She held Katrina’s gaze in her own orange eyes that gleamed with mischief. 

 

Katrina opened her mouth to deny the insinuation but little more than a squeak emerged before she crossed her arms and turned away. “Don’t push it, kid.”

 

“I’m only slightly more a kid than you are.” Then Tani moved in closer until she was standing only centimeters away. “And I’m not the one looking away.”

 

The playful teasing tone in her voice was the first thing she had felt tonight that managed to supplant her bitterness with something else. Part of it was irritation, but the rest was… something else, something that made her feel weak and that couldn’t be good.

 

“I’m not in the mood.” Katrina hated how petulant she sounded, but she couldn’t think of what else to say. Her mind felt like it was going down some kind of manic spiral, emotions smashing against her stubborn mental walls with the relentlessness of ocean waves.

 

“Awww, come on,” Tani said coyly. “I’ve had a really bad couple of days and I really wanna have some fun.”

 

“I don’t hang with grinning idiots, much less date them.”

 

“Oh? Then what kind of idiots do you usually hang out with?”

 

A laugh very nearly burst of Katrina’s mouth but she caught it in time to make it come out as a cough. It wasn’t as if it was actually funny anyway. Just that stupidity was occasionally amusing, that was all.

 

She looked back at Tani who’s smug grin only seemed more cemented in place than before and her eyes made it seem as if she could see through her. Dammit, how was this overly cheerful, smug, annoying little yellow squit rolling over her so easily -nay, at all?

 

“I mean it,” Katrina said in a frankly pitiful impersonation of a growl, but at least she managed to set her glare correct. “Don’t push me.”

 

Her glare didn’t so much as make Tani blink. Instead, she looked at her with… condescension? What was with this girl? How had she not been even the slightest bit phased? Was she just that stupid? Now Katrina really was pissed off and her mantle turned red. Tani only giggled again.

 

“You’re almost cuter when you’re angry.”

 

Katrina’s growl was very real this time. “That’s it! You’re toast!” And she lunged.

 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Eight sat in silence next to Three, the two of them sat on the hill behind the restaurant and parking lot, staring up at the waxing moon as it slowly crawled across the dark blue of the night sky.

 

Eight took a bite out of the hot dog that Three had bought her and decided she liked it but she’d had better. Three had already finished hers and seemed to be preoccupied with her hands, rubbing her fingers together in what Eight could only see as nervousness. That made Eight nervous too because anything that could make Three anxious had to be something major.

 

Minutes ticked by and Eight finished her hotdog. She looked at Three and then she suddenly straightened as she saw Three’s mouth slowly open. Was she at last going to hear her speak? But then, it closed again as Three aborted any such attempt and settled back into maintaining silence.

 

More minutes went by and several times, Three opened her mouth to try and speak, only to close it again in continued reticence. Eight continued to wait patiently, gazing up at the stars and the moon, a sight she never would have seen in person had she not come to the surface, had Three not saved her life.

 

_ “Glowing pendant, silver in the night _

_ Suns twInkling all around you _

_ But ‘tis you that bathes us in your radiant light” _

 

She found herself under Three’s curious gaze and only then realized she had waxed poetic out loud.

 

“I.. like poems.” Eight blushed dark and she pulled her knees up to her chest. She remembered the first time she had seen Three asleep and alone at Cuttlefish Cabin, she had done the same about her. She was pretty sure she hadn’t said that one out loud though. Pretty sure…

 

She glanced at Three but the Inkling was staring up at the moon. Eight followed her gaze, wondering if the stories about the Precursors still living on its dark side were true.

 

“I…”

 

Eight’s head snapped to the left her eyes locked on Three again and the Inklings mouth opened.

 

“I… like the moon… too.”

 

Eight felt like she had just been mentally hit in the head with a hammer. Three had just… spoken to her. Her voice wasn’t anything like the rough, gravelly voice she had imagined, but was actually soft, she would even say velvety to her ears.

 

Eight’s own mouth hung open, dumbstruck, but she slowly managed to close it. Swallowing she shuffled closer to her Inkling companion. “Y-yes, it’s very pretty. It’s proof that the gods exist.”  _ You are too. _ She wanted to say.

 

Three was silent again. Perhaps this time it was because she didn’t know what to say, but it was obvious she had something on her mind, had for some time. Eight was now certain that Three had dragged her here away from everyone else to talk to her about something.

 

Tentatively, she placed her hand atop Three’s and the Inkling’s head jerked towards her, eyes staring down at the hand and then into her amber eyes with her own ruby reds.

 

“Three,” she whispered, her voice soft and gentle. “If you have something you want to say to me, I’m more than willing to listen. I like to think that… well… we’ve become friends by now. Surely friends, and close comrades,” she hastily added, “can tell or ask each other things?”

 

Quiet hung between them for several long moments before, at last, Three spoke again. “Do you know… anything about… mechanics?”

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Silvia watched with more than mild amusement from her discrete position behind the RV as Katrina tried again and again to tackle the little orange girl who refused to be caught. It would be obvious to any onlooker that she was being toyed with. Katrina seemed to realize it too, and that only made her more angry and frustrated.

 

“Hold still and fight, will you?” Katrina snarled, but Tani only laughed.

 

“Why? It would be over too soon if I did that.”

 

Silvia snickered. That was bound to set Katrina off.  _ So, what will you do now then? _

 

With her full lunges not working, Katrina tried a feint but Tani hadn’t so much as flinched. Then Katrina tried a half lunge but her quarry jumped back just enough to maintain distance.

 

“Yeah, right..” Katrina panted. “If you could really fight that good, you would have shown it by now.”

 

Tani raised an eyebrow in question. “Why do you think that? I’ve seen plenty of movies where the more skilled one taunts and teases their opponent. Bullies do the same thing.”

 

“Well..” Katrina took a moment to catch her breath. “I heard that real fighters don’t take the chance, just in case they might actually lose. Pretty sure that happens in the movies a lot when the ‘superior skilled’ one gets clocky and then gets pounded flat.”

 

Tani’s smile remained unchanged. She simply shrugged and asked: “So, if I can pin you down then, will you stop calling me a kid?”

 

“You are a kid.”

 

“No more than you. Two years isn’t enough to make a difference.” She grinned savagely and then added: “Especially if I can outfight you.”

 

Katrina snorted. “Hah! You think you can beat me? I’ve been brawling since you were still in diapers.”

 

“Playfighting doesn’t count,” Tani snarked. “Wanna make a bet?”

 

Katrina froze and then her eyes narrowed. “What kind of bet?” and Silvia held her face in her hands. After all the fuss she’d made about it, was her daughter really going to make the same mistake?

 

“Well, it just might humble her, I suppose. At least it’s not a ritual challenge.”

 

“If can pin you down in ten seconds, and then for ten seconds, I win. If I can’t, you win.”

 

“Win what?” Katrina queried.

 

Tani shrugged. “How about… if I win, you put on something nice and we go out somewhere? I’ve been wanting to get out lately.”

 

Katrina stared at her, aghast, and Silvia had to cover her mouth to keep from betraying her presence with a guffaw. This just got very interesting indeed.

 

“You mean a date?” 

 

“Sure, if you wanna call it that, but you have to put on something nice or it doesn’t count.”

 

Katrina bared her beak angrily. “Well if I win, you’ll be known only as “kid” around here until I saw otherwise, which will be never!”

 

If Tani looked concerned, she didn’t show it. Silvia thought she looked very confident. Katrina was certainly no slouch in a fight but she had never received anything like formal training. That didn’t necessarily mean she had an advantage but…

 

“Okay then, ready to start?” Tani asked. “Three, two, one...go!”

 

Silvia blinked and it was over. Katrina had managed only half a step back before Tani gave her a demonstration of what a real lunge was, crossing the two metres between them in less than a second. She then grabbed Katrina’s arm and flipped her over her back, sending her slamming onto the ground, hard, and then grabbed her arm again, holding it behind her while keeping her weight over her.

 

Katrina cried out in pain as Tani held her arm and counted out ten seconds in the sing-song voice of a toddler reciting a nursery rhyme.

 

“Eight, nine, ten. I win!”

 

Katrina let out a woeful cry and Silvia sighed, shaking her head.  _ Serves you right. Did you learn nothing from what happened to me? It was pretty much the same with me back then, only I was doing a lot more crying. _ She shook her head, banishing the bitter memories and stepped out from behind her hiding spot.

 

Tani offered Katrina a hand up but she ignored it completely, pushing herself up. Her face seemed confused between despair and anger, not sure whether to cry or growl. Her mantle was a psychedelic display of colour, rippled and blotched as she came to terms with her humiliation. She saw Silvia approach and scowled at her.

 

_ As if it’s somehow my fault. _

 

Hello Tani,” she greeted the orange youngster. “I’m Silvia.”

 

Tani betrayed the nature of her upbringing as she bowed. “Honored, Matron.” Silvia was feeling too smug at the moment to insist the girl not refer to her by her title.

 

“I’m Katrina’s mother. Sorry if she gave you trouble.”

 

Tani shrugged. “Nah, it was a nice distraction. I’ve had a few days and it feels good to blow off some steam. Turf wars just wasn’t working.”

 

“I see. Well, care to give me your number? Katrina might have a hard time locating her phone.”

 

“Oh, sure. I guess I can-.”

 

“I can call her myself,” Katrina snapped, and held out her phone. Tani’s smile actually fell away, replaced with a look of mild surprise. Nonetheless, she held out her phone and the two exchanged each other’s contact information via their invisible infrared beams, and then Katrina stormed off. “I’ll call you sometime soon.”

 

“Okay,” Tani called after her.

 

\----------------------------

 

Katrina stormed into the RV and sat herself at the end of the large bed in the bedroom at the back. All the shades were down, blocking out most of the light. She curled up into a ball and shook with rage and anguish.

 

How could she have let herself get beaten so easily, and by a kid no less? It wasn’t fair. Why was nothing going her way lately? Nothing.

 

She heard the outside door open and close near the front of the RV and then heard her mother’s familiar pattern footsteps approach and braced herself for a lecture. The rebellious part of her wanted to tell her to sod off but a larger part of her felt she deserved the verbal beating.

 

She heard the bedroom door slide shut gently and then the mattress flexed with her mother’s weight as she sat on the end of it.

 

“Well, I hope you learned your lesson, Katrina. I would have thought you knew better, considering the nature of your family.”

 

Katrina knew that better than anyone, and she didn’t need her mother to beat her up over that. She was already doing it herself.

 

“Still,” her mother said more softly. “Better you learn it now than later in life. Being young is often about making mistakes after all.”

 

Katrina groaned into her arms but said nothing else. Her mother spoke again and this time, Katrina could hear the wry amusement in her voice.

 

“Well, at least you have better luck with girls than I did at your age. I think she might be a keeper, Katrina. Maybe try holding onto her. You might find you actually like her.”

 

Katrina buried her face in the pillow and groaned again as she found herself drowning in yet another person’s smugness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> She finally speaks! This was a moment I've been working towards pretty much since I started turning this into a longer fic. We're not at the end yet though, so stay strapped in 'cause this roller coaster is about to head downhill.
> 
> Katrina has grown up in an environment where she's pretty much been top dog. Given how rough and tough it can be, she can perhaps be excused for thinking she's pretty tough and a good fighter. Overall, she is, but compared to Marie's savage training, drilled into Four's mind, body and soul, it doesn't compare. And of course, Silvia isn't going to resist the chance to be just a little smug with her daughter.


	20. Revenge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Revenge comes in many forms and degrees, and it can come when and where you least expect it.

Eight wasn’t entirely sure what the social context was for what she was doing but she knew it had to be an honour.

 

When Eight imagined Three speaking to her for the first time, she had never anticipated being asked for help. The idea that the cool, confident, and competent Three would even need help had never occurred to her. What’s more, she hadn’t just asked anyone for help. Out of everyone she knew, she had asked her, HER! Eight’s tummy had been full of flutters ever since.

 

Even now as she walked along the sidewalk next to her stoic Inkling companion, she felt giddy and barely felt her feet touch the ground. The sun was shining, the breeze off the ocean was just right, it felt like a perfect day.

 

Three suddenly grabbed her hand in a firm grip, making Eight squeak in surprise and then she noticed the serious look on Three’s face as she stared ahead.

 

Eight had been so excited that she hadn’t been paying attention to her surroundings, and those surroundings weren’t the sort she was used to when looking around Inkopolis.

 

The nearby buildings lacked a certain polish, and reminded her of shops and storefronts back in the Metro, only in daylight. Some windows were covered over with plywood and paint peeled from old wooden signs above the storefronts. Equally rough looking, were the people loitering along the sidewalk.

 

Mostly Inklings, they resembled many of the people she had seen at the car meet, but without the friendly smiles. They were generally older than the two of them, with perhaps one or two in their age bracket. They eyed them with suspicion. It reminded Eight of times as a cadet when she needed to run errands requiring her to go into the areas the regular army occupied. It was always easy to tell who didn’t belong there.

 

She tightened her grip on Three’s hand, not out of fear but solidarity. She wanted Three to know she was ready for whatever came. Not wanting to look at the unfriendly looking people around her, she tried to focus on something else. 

 

She spotted a mother across the street who looked quite busy indeed. She held her phone to the side of her head, trying to carry on a conversation, while she used her spare hand to hold onto a fussing toddler. In addition, she was standing one foot atop the back wheels of a stroller, in which a baby squirmed and wriggled impatiently. Eight suddenly had a more up to date perspective on why mothers in Octarian society were so revered and treasured.

 

Eight jerked as Three came to a sudden halt, her mantle now a bright, fiery red, her eyes staring intensely somewhere ahead. Eight followed her gaze and saw an Inkling female standing near the corner of the street. Her mantle was also red, but it was flashing. Three’s mantle too started to flash, along with those of all the Inklings around them, except for the poor beleaguered mother whose toddler was now crying.

 

The non-Inklings on the street made themselves scarce, hiding back in the shops or hurrying back the way Eight and Three had come. Eight stood stunned, wondering what could have set them all on edge, until a group of creatures lumbered around the corner at the far end of the street.

 

The Inkling who had first started flashing stopped and backed against the wall as the group of five large, stocky crabs shuffled past her. The Inklings all stopped flashing and kept their mantles at a solid crimson. It was obvious now that whoever these crabs were, the Inklings perceived them as a threat.

 

Then, as if by one mind, a large number of the Inkling females moved, not towards the crabs, but to the poor mother who now had two crying children to deal with. Even as she was trying to speak above the din to whoever was on the other end of her phone call, the other Inklings surrounded her and her children, and it was only then Eight realized what they were doing.

 

The Inklings stared outwards from their circle, glaring at approaching crabs, a wall of crimson barring them from getting too close to the children. Eight eyed the male Inklings who were also looking intently and wondered why they hadn’t joined the wall? Three too hadn’t moved, although she glared at the crabs as they approached with fierce intensity.

 

When the crabs reached the barrier around the children, which occupied much of the sidewalk, they stopped and Eight felt the tension in the air spike. It was only then Eight understood their strategy.

 

The larger and stronger females formed the protective wall between the threat and the young, while the smaller but faster and more agile males and young females would attack from behind.

 

Eight released Three’s hand and prepared for a fight. She didn’t know the crab species very well but if even Three perceived them as a threat, she would as well. Three’s glare even intensified, her eyes conveying, not hate, but a look that vowed a violent end for any of those crabs should they push.

 

The crabs clacked their claws and mandibles at the wall of Inklings as if in challenge. The Inkling response was a loud, simultaneous hiss. They would not be moved. Eight watched with her hearts hammering in her chest, waiting to see how the crabs would respond. 

 

The crabs clacked angrily but moved around the Inklings, in that peculiar sideways fashion only crabs could pull off, until they were on the other side of the circle and then headed irately away.

 

Three relaxed but the rest didn’t until the crabs reached the other end of the block. Then, the females of the wall turned around in place and their mantles changed from angry crimson to serene blue as they moved closer to the stroller.

 

Eight tensed but Three grabbed her hand and started to lead her away as if nothing had happened. But Eight continued to watch and after a moment, finally realized the baby had stopped crying, and recalled the calming effect of that beautiful blue wave pattern Inklings were now displaying. So, after the crabs had gone, they had further helped the mother by helping to calm her children.

 

Eight wondered if this was normal behavior for Inklings. Did they all know each other? Had they been strangers? How had civilians moved with military precision and formed that tight formation so well? Was this a regular occurrence? Her mind was inundated with questions, but they turned the corner and the scene was out of sight.

 

Eight was at a loss for words. As far as she had seen, while living in Inkopolis, Inklings got along fairly well with the other species. This was the first indication of any hostility she had noticed. Was it simply because there were young children or were those particular crabs a known problem?

 

After another three blocks, Three finally took them off the sidewalk and onto an open tarmac area with what looked like a large workshop and a long line of storage units. The roof of the workshop had a sign that read “Rex’s Garage.”

 

It wasn’t an entirely unfamiliar sort of place to Eight. As she had told Three, she had worked in the motor pool and workshops in the army. Looking in through the large openings, however, she could see that the machines being worked on here were just civilian cars and trucks.

 

Three took a key out of her pocket and unlocked one of the storage units. When she lifted up the door, all of Eight’s thoughts about the earlier incident vanished, and she beheld Three’s car.

 

It was squat and boxy, and the red reminded Eight of Three’s eyes. She wasn’t sure if it was good looking or not, but it’s somewhat muscular looking appearance and bright red colour definitely spoke of someone who liked attention. In other words, it didn’t seem like Three at all.

 

“So, this is it then?” The response from Three was a nod.

 

Three went over to the back corner and retrieved a large, soft-cover book, and Eight red the title out loud. “Heinous Manual: Hakodate Consort Mk. 1.” She looked at the car on the cover and found it to be much more… reserved than the example sitting in front of her. It had obviously been extensively modified, which was to be expected if Three’s mother had been involved with that group of car enthusiasts.

 

Eight opened it to a bookmarked page where it outlined the steps in removing the engine and transmission. There were a lot of steps but it didn’t look like anything she hadn’t tackled before. Although she hadn’t done it alone, the scale was much smaller this time, so that should make it easier.

 

She tilted her eyes up from the book and noticed Three looking at her. She looked apprehensive. Did she dare suggest that Three even looked... worried?

 

“It doesn’t look too difficult.” Eight surprised herself with the confidence she put into her voice. “It’s just a lot of time and some of the fastenings will likely be badly rusted but I’m sure we can manage.”

 

Eight wasn’t sure if her eyes were playing tricks on her or not but Three’s body seemed to slacken just a bit, as if relaxing. Eight even had a notion that she might have even been holding her breath. The thought made Eight giggle and the two set down to work.

 

Seeing Three in coveralls was new and Eight found the utilitarian look it gave her appealing, even if it looked baggy on her slim frame.

 

Rex, the proprietor of the workshop, showed up only briefly to check on them and to help them put the car on jack stands so they could work on it more easily. After that, Three spent the majority of the time under the car or in the engine bay, following Eight’s instructions. Eight had offered to help directly but Three, in one of their rare moments of verbal interaction, had politely refused, wanting to do the work herself.

 

Eight didn’t understand precisely why Three wanted to do all the work herself. She suspected it was a matter of pride. She had said it was some kind of test from her elders, but even so, seeing the Inkling she had come to admire and care for working so hard, filled Eight with her own sense of pride.

 

It was hours later when Three’s phone began to beep and the Inkling grunted loudly in annoyance. She dragged herself out from underneath the car and removed her gloves to operate the screen. They both knew what it was, however.

 

“Times up?” Eight asked. She cringed slightly at the disappointed tone she heard in her voice.

 

Three’s response was a simple changing of her mantle’s green tone, but blue and purple rippled in its depths. She didn’t want to stop. Eight didn’t either for that matter, but Three had another concert to go to with Callie and Marie and she needed to be there early.

 

Suddenly, it was Eight’s phone that began making noise and she hurriedly answered it. “Hello?”

 

“Hey, Eight.” It was Pearl. “Are you still with Three?”

 

Eight frowned. “Yes. Why?”

 

“Because the present I got her just arrived. Can you bring her over?”

 

“Well, she has to get ready for the concert so I don’t think she has time to-”

 

“She can get ready over here,” Pearl replied hastily. “Trust me; she’ll want to do it.”

 

Eight raised a questioning eyebrow at Three who was obviously able to hear Pearl’s loud voice coming out the phone, even several feet away. The Inkling looked at the ceiling in thought and then shrugged.

 

“Okay,” Eight said hesitantly. “We’re on our way.”

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Privately, Eight was grateful for Pearl’s request because it meant spending more time with Three. She still spoke very rarely and obviously wasn’t the type for small talk but it was still nice even just talking to her, and being with her of course.

 

When they arrived at the penthouse, Pearl was there to greet them.

 

“Hey, you two. Come on in. Don’t worry about being dirty, Three. Nice to see you again by the way. Eight, can you help Three with the shower? Don’t worry about your clothes, Three, I’ve got something just for you that you can wear to do your bodyguard job or whatever. It’s already in the bathroom. Go on, go on or you’ll be late.” She pushed Three gently in the direction of the bathroom and then gestured for Eight to lead her the rest of the way.

 

Three stared at Eight, looking very obviously puzzled. Eight could only shrug in response. She had no answers or even theories to give for Pearl’s behavior.

 

Eight grabbed a towel, washcloth, and everything else Three needed and then made sure the bathroom had all the necessary things as well. She spotted the boxes on the bathroom’s shelves that had to be the clothes Pearl had gotten for Three. It reminded her of the box her maid uniforms had come in. 

 

She felt the smallest spike of apprehension as it dawned on her that Pearl had deliberately put Three in a situation where she had no choice but to wear the outfit in those boxes. She couldn’t imagine what kind of outfit it was but given Pearl’s unusual eagerness she doubted it was anything normal.

 

Eight’s mind flashed with the image of Three in the same kind of maid uniform she had and her face bloomed in a fierce blush as she realized how cute Three would look wearing it. With said Inkling taken care of, she hastily extricated herself from the bathroom and didn’t dare let herself imagine what outfit Three would be wearing when she came out.

 

Pearl was sitting on the couch with Marina, the latter looking like someone indulging the antics of a small child. Said “child” was grinning so broadly Eight thought it might pull her whole face wider.

 

“Everything go okay?” The ivory gremlin asked.

 

“Fine,” Eight replied. Her words dripped with suspicion and Pearl put up her hands in a defensive gesture.

 

“Hey, I’m not doing anything to hurt Three. I’d never do that.”

 

“Then what are you up to?” Eight realized only after she spoke that it was the harshest tone she had ever used when speaking to Pearl. She felt a pang of regret but Pearl didn’t seem bothered.

 

“You’ll just have to see.” Her eyes, ones virtually identical to Callie and Marie’s, twinkled and her expression oozed smugness. Eight was both curious and irritated. Marina entered the conversation then.

 

“So, how did you day with Three go?”

 

Eight slowly removed her gaze from Pearl and met Marina’s. “It was alright. I read the instructions in the manual and Three did the steps. She wanted to do it herself. She worked really hard.”

 

Marina smiled approvingly. “Three certainly seems like she’ll be a reliable friend. Make sure you don’t lose her, Eight.”

 

“I’ll try.” Then she looked at Pearl again. “I do have a question for you though, Pearl?”

 

“Oh?” Pearl’s grin remained unfazed. “Did something happen between you two on the way?” Eight shook her head and Pearl was disappointed to not get a stronger reaction.

 

Eight told the two of them about the incident with the Inklings and the crabs that she had seen. The way the older females had formed a defensive wall around the children and their poor mother, the way the males and the smaller, younger females had waited, prepared to strike the crabs from behind. When she had finished her tale, Pearl, whose smile had vanished, sighed.

 

“Yeah, that happens, especially in the rougher neighbourhoods. If those crabs were the wrong sort, they might have held the kids hostage and forced the mom to give up all her stuff to get them back.”

 

Marina’s look sobered, as someone who had lived on the surface far longer than Eight, who was utterly horrified.

 

“But… but...  children are sacred,” she stammered. “Mothers are sacred. The gods told us so. It is their will; their law!”

 

“I know,” Pearl said softly. “But not everyone believes in the same gods we do and nobody likes it when we mention that our species were directly touched by the Precursors either.”

 

Pearl leaned back in her seat. “I don’t know how it is with Octolings, but Inklings have very powerful protective instincts when it comes to children. It’s not uncommon to hear about inkyora hurting their own mates unintentionally, just because the protective instinct is so powerful. What you saw, is a mix of that instinct and the ones that drives us to create shoals.”

 

“Social groups,” Eight paraphrased to herself.

 

“Not just social groups,” Pearl said. “A shoal is a family in itself. The other people in a shoal are people you can count on and the attitude of that shoal is determined by its leader. The leaders of significant enough shoals become matrons.”

 

Understanding dawned behind Eight’s eyes. “Like Silvia.” Pearl frowned but Marina nodded.

 

“Yes, like Silvia. That’s why she has the purple scarf around her neck. It tells everyone she’s a matron.”

 

Eight nodded and thought for a moment. “But, what if a shoal’s leader follows someone else?”

 

Pearl chuckled. “You’re overthinking it, Eight. There’s no by-the-numbers system for making Matrons. Even they will often have shoals under them, just smaller ones. They’re chosen just by what feels right and who might be able to make the best use of what authority matrons are given.”

 

“Chosen by whom?” Eight asked.

 

“By the Matriarchs.” A silence hung for a moment before Pearl realized that Eight didn’t know who or what the matriarchs were. Sighing, she continued on.

 

“They’re basically the ones that make the laws. Each one represents their shoal and each one of their shoals has matrons with their own shoals, which are by extension, part of the Matriarch’s shoal.”

 

Eight’s brow creased as she thought hard, trying to process this information and contextualize it until Marina spoke up.

 

“They’re basically the  _ Or’ Ufala _ , but for Inklings. Obviously, membership isn’t gained quite the same way.”

 

Eight nodded in greater understanding. The  _ Or’ Ufala,  _ or “Council of High Minds” as directly translated into Inklish, was the Octarian’s body of highest authority. It was they who decided how and where to allocate the nation’s resources, what little of them there were, and they who provided non-secular guidance. DJ Octavio, as the commander of the military, automatically had a seat on the Or’ Ufala. Eight now wondered if he still would should he ever get back.

 

“This is boring.” Pearl protested suddenly. “Who cares about government? I mean, sure, pretty much all Matriarchs are great and stuff, but the thing they hate most about their job is arguing in the council forum.” She visibly shuddered. “I couldn’t stand that.”

 

Eight and Marina looked at each other and then started to giggle, both imagining Pearl voicing her opinions among the distinguished and material with the same crude vehemence with which she argued in private, and the more childish and impudent manner that was her TV persona.

 

“What’s so funny?” The little white Inkling demanded in that very same childish petulance. The octolings were giggling too heavily to answer and Pearl sulked.

 

\------------------------------------

 

Eight had just started serving tea when Three, at last, emerged from the bathroom. Eight heard her quick and excited steps before she saw her, and the image she saw when she looked up from the kettle made her jaw go slack.

 

Three was dressed almost entirely in black with heavy-duty boots, cargo shorts and jacket. On her hands were fingerless black gloves and on her head was a single black cap. The final flourish, and the outfits most striking component, was the long, black cape that just barely stopped above the floor.

 

Three looked like the modern interpretation of a war goddess, fearsome and intimidating even at a glance. Or, she would have were it not for the sun-bright smile and the excitement glowing in her ruby red eyes.

 

“It looks good.” Said Pearl, her face twisted into a smile that would have looked all too nasty to anyone not already stunned and transfixed by Three’s striking appearance, and Three herself who was too euphoric to notice.

 

Three’s response was an explosion of bright colours through her mantle that completely drowned out her usual green. To Eight’s eyes, there was an odd beauty in that chromatic chaos, like joy made tangible.

 

“Well you’d better not wait around here.” Pearl went on. “You have a concert to go to and a couple of pop idols to babysit. Don’t worry about your clothes, you can leave them here and pick ‘em up some other time.”

 

If Three used colour language to express her sincere thanks then Eight was unaware because less than three seconds later, Agent 3 was out of the penthouse and running to the elevator. The door shut, and Pearl burst out laughing, unable to contain herself any longer.

 

“Pearl,” Marina said in that admonishing maternal tone of hers.

 

“Oh come on!” Pearl gestured to the door. “You saw how happy she was. How could you say ‘no’ to that face? She was like a little kid at Squidmas who got everything she had on her list.”

 

Eight wasn’t sure what Squidmas was but she couldn’t argue that Three’s level of happiness was well beyond anything Eight had seen from her before. Seeing that normally serious face so full of delight had been more than heartwarming; it was as if she’d seen a whole new world.

 

She looked up as Pearl’s laughter reached a crescendo. “I just wish I could see the look on those girl’s faces.”

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Marie was at a total loss for words. Callie would have thought her expression hilarious were she not so stunned herself by Three’s entrance.

 

Three stood holding the ends of her cape in each hand, her eyes big and bright, and her smile was full of naive glee. It wasn’t a face they were used to seeing on her and Callie was struggling to come up with any instance of having seen her quite like this before.

 

In a rare moment of ineloquence, Marie sputtered a bit before she managed to utter actual words.

 

“Three, wha- what’s going on?”

 

Three blinked innocently at Marie, genuinely baffled by her question. She had yet to come down from her happy high and failed to recognize the situation she had unknowingly created.

 

Witholding a sigh, Marie rephrased her question. “What’s with the outfit?”

 

“It was a gift.”

 

“Fine fine, but what… made you wear it here when you’re supposed to be working?”

 

Back down to Earth, Three bit down gently on her bottom lip. “I’m… your bodyguard. Shouldn’t I look, kinda, something like this?” Her voice trailed off at the end and Callie smiled inwardly. 

 

It was obvious that Three had been so enamoured with the outfit she hadn’t even thought about the image it would give her. That dark, comic book heroine look fit her tastes to a tee after all and Three had always loved capes. Her eccentricities were one of the reasons she and Marie were so fond of her, but it was rare they affected her job.

 

Marie took a deep breath and closed her eyes, forcing herself to calm before answering the next question.

 

“Who gifted this to you?”

 

Three’s mantle, settled back down to its natural green, rippled purple, indicating some level of regret. The look in her eyes also made it clear she understood what Marie was really asking and the implications the answer would have. Thus, her answer came out as little more than a squeak.

 

“Pearl?”

 

Marie’s eyes darkened and her mantle rippled red before she regained full control.

 

“I might have known.”

 

“She offered to let me shower there and said she had some clothes for me.” Three had the look of someone only just realizing they had been duped. “And she hurried me out the door pretty quick, saying I could pick up my clothes later.” Her mantle went light-purple with shame, realizing how easily she’d been manipulated, and hung her head.

 

Marie regarded her junior with a mix of annoyance and disappointment. “Three, you should know better. We taught you to be aware and to not let your emotions overwhelm you. This is why. You let your guard down. You’ve gotten complacent.”

 

Three’s shoulders sagged completely and her mantle turned white except for the light-purple shame spots dotting it. Her torso was bent over in an apologetic bow. Callie, then decided to come to her aid.

 

“Hey, Marie.” She grabbed her partner and cousin’s shoulders from behind and lay her own head on top of hers. “Come on, nobody can stay alert all the time. Besides, you’re not really mad at Three, your mad that Pearl got back at us and you never saw this coming.”

 

Marie’s eyes narrowed but they weren’t focused on Three, rather, somewhere immaterial.

 

“I’m not mad,” she insisted. “But I am disappointed in you, Three. You accepted a job and that job expects something of you. You forgot that.”

 

Three shrunk in place, unable to meet her friend, boss, and mentor’s eyes; and so continued to stare at the floor.

 

“Now Marie,” Callie said in a soothing tone. “Don’t be too hard on the baby. She doesn’t get to have a lot of fun. Didn’t you see how big that smile was when she came in? Come on, it was only a teeny little mistake. We haven’t given her much attention lately, after all.”

 

“Don’t talk about her like she’s a toddler,” Marie said testily. But her eyes softened and she turned her head away. 

 

“You’re too soft on her, Callie.” 

 

Callie giggled shamelessly and kissed Marie’s cheek, which didn’t dispel the latter’s grumpiness.

 

“Pearl got us fair and square,” Callie said. “Best thing we can do is to own it and not blame Three for the consequences of something  _ we _ did.” She looked at Marie levelly and Marie looked back at her, dissatisfied.

 

“Fine.” And then she looked at Three. “But I expect better from you in the future.”

 

Three nodded quickly and turned yellow with pink spots in gratitude.

 

Marie stood up and this time she did sigh. “Come on, let’s get this over with.”

 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Sneaking in wasn’t a problem. Rex’s security was a joke, especially to one of their skill.

 

After cutting the wire on the roof’s security camera, it had been simple to exploit the new blind spot. There was no one watching the camera footage in real time so there was no worry. Their only concern was being spotted from the street as the occasional car or pedestrian went by, but she was camouflaged accordingly and her target was in shadow.

 

Picking the lock on the garage door was child’s play. The fact that something so precious and valuable was protected by such weak hindrances actually felt upsetting. Still, they couldn’t complain about it in this case as it suited their purposes perfectly and allowed them to unlock the door with little trouble.

 

They lifted the door only slightly, using a small stone underneath it to hold it up before transforming for just long enough to slip under the small gap. The darkness was only a minor inconvenience and they wouldn’t need a lot of light for what they were about to do.

 

The little red car sat, alone and unprotected. Any vestiges of self-imposed resistance to what they were about to do left them and they produced a small can from their fanny pack. Inhibitions gone, they couldn’t help but grin savagely at what pain they were about to inflict and they moved towards the helpless little car with malevolent glee.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the beginning of the story's final act and sets up the conflict that may or may not finally equal Agent 24. We'll have to wait and see ;)


	21. I Will Make You Hurt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three is hurt. This made a lot of people very angry and has been widely regarded as a bad move.

The Penthouse was filled with Pearl’s laughter. Normally, this would be a good thing, as it meant Pearl was in a good mood. In this case, she certainly was, but Eight felt a degree of dissatisfaction and disapproval with the source of Pearl’s laughter.

 

“Look at ‘em. There are so many pictures. They’re trending on almost every platform.”

 

Pearl scrolled through the seemingly endless list of images displayed on her laptop. All of them were of Three in the outfit Pearl had gifted her.

 

As she passed behind the couch, Marina glanced at the screen and frowned disapprovingly. “Three seems a bit uncomfortable with all the attention she’s getting in those images.”

 

“Probably the earlier ones. She gets used to it as you get to pictures that were taken later.” She laughed again. “Here are some of her taking down people trying to sneak backstage. Girl plays rough.”

 

“She certainly does,” Marina replied levely. “That’s something you should keep in mind lest you get on her bad side.”

 

“Yeah yeah.” 

 

Pearl’s nonchalant response bothered Eight more than it should have. Despite hearing of Three’s reputation from both her and Marina, she still didn’t understand just how dangerous Three could be; how dangerous she was.

 

Eight put that aside and returned to her work. Maybe it was better that Pearl didn’t know. Besides, the crud stuck to the stove wasn’t going to come off itself, and she had to be done by a certain time.

 

“Going out with Three again today, Eight?” Marina asked in quiet Octese.

 

“Yes. We’re going to look at her car again and see if we can actually get the engine and transmission pulled out. I think she’ll actually let me physically help this time.”

 

“That would be nice.” Marina smiled and started to make herself some tea. “Working on machines can be very therapeutic.”

 

“Or it can be the most aggravating thing in the world,” Eight countered.

 

“That’s true.” Marina’s smile was unwavering. “But, sometimes having something to focus on and forget your troubles is still better than the alternative, even if that something is extremely frustrating.”

 

Eight hummed thoughtfully. “I think it’s something deeper for Three. This car belonged to her mother so I suppose it’s something very special. I can’t think of anyone I knew before have something passed down from their mother.”

 

“It happens,” Marina shrugged. “Even among Octolings. Usually, it’s mothers who have done limited mating instead of the actual breeding mothers. Unlike the latter, they’ve actually been able to go out of the central domes and see more of the world and find keepsakes.” She chuckled sardonically. “It’s sad just how little of the world that really is.”

 

“Truth.” Eight agreed emphatically. Sometimes Eight was shocked how little she knew of the society she came from. Marina’s additional years really made a difference.

 

“So, I can drop you off if you’d like. That way you don’t have to take that long walk from the bus stop in such a rough part of the city. Given what happened last time, I’d feel better about it too.”

 

“I would appreciate it. Maybe Three will let you see the car. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind showing it off. It’s not like she’s trying to keep it a secret.”

 

“I’d love to see it! I wasn’t able to go with you when you took Four to the car meet either.”

 

“Ah… yes.” Eight wondered how Four was doing. When she and Three had returned from their talk, Four had an odd look that Eight could only describe as false innocence. She hadn’t said anything but clearly something had happened while they were gone.

 

“Well, before we leave, I have to get rid of this crud. I’m not leaving a job half-finished.” Eight resumed scrubbing and Marina patted her head like a proud mother.

 

“Good girl.”

 

\----------------------------------------

 

Even with Marina wearing her disguise and both of them wearing casual clothing, Eight expected Marina’s shiny, burbling motorbike to get plenty of stares as they drove through the somewhat run-down area to Rex’s Garage. She was surprised to find they only got the occasional glance. Fortunately, she didn’t spot any crabs.

 

“It’s pretty big,” Marina commented as they arrived. I’ve seen some mechanics shops uptown that weren’t as big as this.”

 

“Maybe it’s bigger because more people can afford to have their cars brought here,” Eight suggested. She had never really thought about it.

 

A month. That’s how long she had been on the surface for. It felt like so much had happened in that short space of time. Her life as an Octarian soldier felt like a past life, especially since she had lost her memory in-between.

 

Despite having arrived early, they didn’t have to wait long for Three to arrive. This Inkling was punctual by nature and she actually arrived ten minutes early herself. Moments later, Rex personally came out to greet her.

 

They said no words, using only their colour language. Eight was starting to notice that Inklings actually spoke less the better they knew someone, at least for the most part. That certainly didn’t explain why Three hadn’t spoken to her until a few days ago. But, she had long deduced it was just one of her personal quirks.

 

The four of them walked to the garage where Three’s car was stored and Three fished out her key. Eight waited patiently as she unlocked the door. Beside her, Marina fidgeted with poorly concealed excitement.

 

Rex and Three together lifted the door, and then the world around them seemed to fade away. Eight barely registered her jaw falling as her brain reeled from the shock of what she was seeing, and she heard Marina gasp.

 

The little red car’s windshield was splattered with crudely written letters written in white paint that had run all the way down and pooled at the bottom. Despite that, the words were all too clear, and Eight felt cold talons squeeze around her hearts as their meaning sank in.

 

_ “Car of a shuunkri whore and her baby whore.” _

 

The level of hate and disrespect in that sentence was staggering. Eight had never come across it’s like before.

 

All eyes turned to Three. She stared at it, minute after agonizing minute passing in silence. Eight expected her to fly into some kind of rage, to immediately go out and mercilessly hunt down the perpetrator of this horrible act and give them an excruciatingly long and painful death. But when she finally moved, she simply turned around and walked away, back towards the shop, shoulders sagging and back hunched, looking dejected and hurt.

 

Eight started to follow her but Marina grasped her shoulder and shook her head. “Let her be for a moment. Be proud of her for her self-control.”

 

Self-control was an understatement. What Three was performing had to be a level of reticence and willpower even the most exalted ecclesiastic figure would be hard-pressed to match.

 

“What the heck is with all these scribbles?” Rex’s shouting clearly indicated he lacked that same level of control. Not that his reaction was unwarranted.

 

“It was locked,” he insisted. “I check all of them every night, even the empty ones. How could they have gotten in?” He knelt on the ground and started examining the concrete floor. “Could they have slipped through a small gap under the door?

 

Eight thought that was certainly a possibility. She had snuck into places herself the same way. One look at Marina’s frown however made her doubt that theory. Instead, Marina was staring at the large, sturdy lock on the door.

 

She reached up and gently pulled it down, bringing the lock to eye level. 

 

Rex stood up. “What’s wrong?”

 

Marina let out a sigh, the kind of resigned sigh someone made when they hoped to be wrong but discovered the opposite. “This lock has been picked recently. It’s scratched up. I’d say that paint looks pretty fresh too.”

 

Rex gaped. “You mean someone actually went to the trouble of picking the lock just to do…,” he gestured at the unfortunate automobile. “That?”

 

“So it would seem,” Marina’s voice was barely audible above the background drone of passing traffic. “Hopefully they didn’t do any more damage to it.”

 

Rex flinched and then hurriedly circled the car, checking the bodywork closely and even underneath. As he did so, Eight and Marina stared at the message written in deathly white paint, and Marina’s expression morphed with the process of cold calculation.

 

“The fact that it’s written in Octese is pretty telling,” she whispered in that language. “Whoever did this wanted to make it clear that an Octoling did it.”

 

“Or made it look like one did,” Eight said acidly, but Marina shook her head.

 

“No. The only Inklings around here who are likely to understand that message are the ones we know.”  _ And none of them would do this _ , she didn’t have to say. “Besides, there’s no Inklish word for ‘shuunkri,’ so an Inkling would have been more likely to think of a different word. No, that word was chosen purposefully.”

 

Eight’s blood, already at a simmer, started to boil. “So this wasn’t a random act of vandalism; it was a deliberate attack.”

 

“Most likely.” 

 

Marina’s wintery tone both contrasted and complimented the way Eight felt at that moment. Eight hadn’t felt this level of anger in a long time and the fact that it was one of her own kind made it worse. One who had made it to the surface, one who had to actually love the Squid Sisters to be there, had done this terrible thing and had declared upon Three probably the strongest insult in the Octarian language.

 

“I wonder if Three understands the whole thing.” Marina’s musing pulled Eight from her thoughts. She stared at her puzzled and Marina met her gaze.

 

“Even if Three understands Octese very well, it’s unlikely even she knows what a shuunkri is. Still, she probably knows it’s an insult.”

 

“Against her mother,” Eight replied bitingly. “That’s… that’s just too far. Especially for an Octarian.”

 

“We can talk about that all day,” Marina said. “Or, we can try to do something about it.”

 

Eight was about to suggest they go hunt down the scum that did this and introduce them to that blender in the metro when Rex finally came out of the garage.

 

“Looks like there’s no fresh damage and anything mechanical that they might have messed with will get found when you take the car apart anyway.” He sighed heavily and suddenly he looked much older.

 

“How could this happen?” He stared back at the car and his mantle burned crimson. “I can’t read that writing but it’s obvious Cortina can, and it’s obviously not wishing her a happy birthday.”

 

“Cortina?” The two octolings asked in stereo.

 

“Yeah…” Rex’s voice trailed off, his frown turning from anger to puzzlement. “Aren’t you two her friends? You didn’t even know her name?”

 

“Oh, um…” Eight’s lips flapped uselessly for a full second before she managed a coherent answer. “I only really knew her as ‘Maiya.’ I didn’t know her real name was Cortina.”

 

“Oh.” Rex scratched his head and then he smiled a little. “Maiya huh?”

 

“I sense some nostalgia behind that smile,” Marina said, smiling a little herself.

 

Rex nodded. “Yeah, Maiya was an old Inkyora that used to sell ice cream around here. Fulvia used to buy ice cream from her when Cortina was a little tyke.”

 

Eight’s eyes widened. “You’ve known her that long?”

 

Rex shrugged. “Sorta, but I haven’t seen her in years. Not since…” He shook his head and then looked at Marina. “Look, you seem to know some stuff. Maybe you could come with me to watch the security footage and see if we find out something else.”

 

“Security footage?” They both echoed.

 

“Sure. I’ve got security cameras set up all over the place. This area isn’t as bad as some people might think but there are still some rough characters around and I like to keep my business and my customer’s cars guarded somehow.” He pointed to the roof of his shop. “Right there. That’s the camera we want to look at. It points almost directly at this spot.”

 

“I see.” Marina’s expression drooped with discouragement. “Would it be alright if I looked at the Camera itself first?”

 

Rex frowned, clearly not understanding. “Sure, I guess. Let me find you a ladder.” He jogged away briskly while Marina and Eight shared a look, both thinking and expecting the same thing now that the perpetrator’s profile had been somewhat established.

 

“While I’m doing this,” Marina began. “You should go to Three.” Her expression and voice were delicate. “I’m sure she could use a hug right now.”

 

Eight felt the anger building up within her start to ebb and she realized that Marina was right. Now that the shock was probably wearing off, Three probably would like someone to be with her and she was probably the person she was most comfortable with right now.

 

A simple nod to Marina and she headed over to her distraught friend. Yes, friend. She and Three were friends now, they had to be. She wouldn’t feel this strongly about someone else being offended if they weren’t at least a friend.

 

Three was sat on a cinderblock against a wall that hid her from street view. She was bent over, her hands holding onto her knees, and her mantle was an ugly mess of colour. Eight could faintly hear sniffling as she got close.

 

Eight picked up a bucket and turned it over, using it as a chair as she sat next to Three. The Inkling didn’t respond to her presence and Eight thought that was okay. 

 

“I’m sorry Three,” she whispered. And then she realized that words simply weren’t enough to express the way she felt right now. So, Eight wrapped her arms around her friend and held her tightly. She felt Three stiffen but she didn’t try to resist.

 

“I’m holding you,” Eight said. “And I’m not letting you go.”

 

Three shuddered and she sniffled again, but she didn’t cry. Instead, she did her best to hug Eight back, tightly, and the Octoling adjusted herself to make it easier. And so, they just held onto each other, life preservers in a raging torrent of anger and sorrow.

 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

“Hey, sorry for the short notice.”

 

Four’s hurriedly kicked her shoes off and then stepped into the penthouse. She hadn’t come alone.

 

“Well well, their majesties feel inclined to grace our humble home with their divine presence.” Pearl’s tone was neither mocking nor modest, but Callie and Marie took it in stride as they came in. Obviously, they hadn’t forgotten Pearl’s little jest.

 

“Yes yes, we’ve all had our fun,” Marie sighed as she very carefully removed her sneakers and then picked up Four’s to place them neatly next to hers. She remained kneeling as Callie kicked off her heeled shoes in much the same way as the junior agent, and then placed them as well.

 

“And it’s inappropriate at this time,” Marina said, giving Pearl an admonishing look. For once, Pearl looked genuinely chastened and she settled down.

 

“Yeah, it sounded pretty bad from the way you talked on the phone.” Four said to Eight.

 

After Three had calmed down, the two of them went to check on Rex and Marina, the former stomping the ground furiously after Marina discovered that his security camera had been sabotaged by the vandal prior to their defacing Three’s car. Three and Rex went back to the car to talk about how to remove the paint and Marina suggested Eight call Four and tell her what happened. 

 

Four had just happened to be on her way back from having lunch with Callie and Marie. Marina suggested inviting them to the penthouse so they could explain what had happened. Before they could ask Three how she felt about it, the Inkling announced she was going home early. Neither Octoling blamed her.

 

The new arrivals sat themselves on the couch and Marie spoke first. “So, you’ll need to go into more detail about what happened. You said Three’s car was vandalized and she was pretty devastated about it?”

 

Marina nodded solemnly. “Yes. They left a message to her on the windshield written in death-white paint.” She paused her explanation as Eight arrived with tea for everyone and Callie gushed.

 

“Awww, Eight it’s so great to see you working in your outfit. You look great.”

 

Eight managed a brief smile and then sat between Pearl and Marina on the couch. She was honestly afraid of what their reactions were going to be and if she would have a mess to clean up afterwards.

 

“What kind of message?” Marie asked. “Usually people just leave phrase or silly drawings when they vandalize property like that.”

 

“Isn’t that kinda’ missing the point?” Four asked. “Isn’t the fact that someone vandalized Three’s car bad enough? We all know how much it means to her.”

 

Marie shut her eyes in the way a sage might when about to explain something to a very young disciple. “It is bad and I am plenty upset right now, but if it was that bad we would have heard about it from Three already.” She and Callie both took out their phones in unison and frowned. “We haven’t heard a peep from her, so the car itself is probably going to be okay.”

 

“It’s not damaged,” Marina confirmed, her eyes glowing with admiration of Marie’s superb analysis. “I’m afraid you’re right, it’s the message that’s the problem. It was written in Octese and it’s pretty clear that they want Three to know an octoling was responsible. It was a deliberate, premeditated attack on her.”

 

Callie’s teeth clenched visibly. “Someone’s figured out she’s Agent 3.”

 

Marie nodded. “Most likely.”

 

“What was the message?” Pearl asked. There was a hint of nonchalance in her voice but it was layered with caution and concern. Eight guessed she was trying to make herself feel a bit detached to avoid the coming pain.

 

Marina grimaced. “Well… it was a very bad insult. I don’t really want to quote it direc-.”

 

“Quote it directly.” 

 

Marie’s tone was ice and she glared across the coffee table at Eight and Marina with those cross-pupiled, golden eyes. Eight heard Marina swallow and she too felt a sudden chill under that cold gaze and the air of absolute authority that radiated from Marie like raging flames.

 

Eight had always wondered about those eyes of theirs, why only they and Pearl seemed to have those strange golden eyes, with pupils no other creature seemed to have. Only now did Eight realize what kind of eyes those were. They were the eyes of a predator, one unaccustomed to fear, one that dominated all it surveyed, one that was expected to have its demands met. But even Pearl was struck silent.

 

Marina cleared her throat, trying to banish the nerves that threatened to make her break out into shakes. She then, very slowly and deliberately, reiterated that awful message in spoken Octese and Eight watched the other couch carefully.

 

She had never seen Callie and Marie turn other colours before. But upon hearing the insult Callie’s black, Marie’s white, and Four’s yellow were obliterated in a shockwave of neon-orange, their mantles flashing furiously before they rose to the colour of fresh lava. Callie and Marie’s crossed eyes narrowed into perpendicular slits.

 

Four jumped to her feet, yellow eyes blazing like stars. “I’m gonna’ find out whoever wrote that squit and I’m gonna make them pick their own dead body from the bottom of Octo Canyon!”

 

Marina and Eight both flinched, knowing it was anything but an idle threat. Meanwhile the idol threat coming from Callie and Marie was far more pressing.

 

Callie’s long tentacles unwrapped themselves from their bow shape and moved like angry serpents seeking prey. Her hands were clenched into tight fists and she began stomping her feet on the floor, perhaps in an effort to burn off the excess fury. Marie’s expression was like that of a vengeful goddess: cold and aloof; yet intense.

 

“I’ll make them suffer for what they did,” Marie seethed. “I’ll make them wish they had stayed rotting in that valley or canyon or wherever they came from. It doesn’t matter who they are, even if they aren’t an Octoling, I’ll make them suffer. I’ll rip them apart with my bare hands until the only thing left of them is pulp!”

 

Marie’s mantle then started to glow like the inside of a volcano and for the first time since coming to the surface, Eight felt genuine terror, even beyond the level she felt fighting Tartar’s NILS statue. She would rather repeat that experience a thousand times than be in the same room as Marie right now, and that wasn’t something she ever thought she’d feel.

  
  


Pearl hastily put herself between the angry idol and the octolings just as Callie flashed with sudden realization and she quickly wrapped her arms tightly around Marie’s body.

 

“Marie, calm down. It’s alright, it’s going to be okay. Three’s okay and her car is okay. Those are the important things and we’re going to find the person responsible and get justice for our little Three, okay? Please Marie, don’t do something you’ll regret.”

 

A perilously tense few moments followed before Marie’s mantle finally began to cool and their guests finally resumed their seats, the initial spark of fury past.

 

“You’re sure it was an Octoling?” Marie asked in a strained and barely controlled voice.

 

“Very.” Marina replied. “Disabled the camera whilst avoiding getting spotted by all the other cameras. Obviously had the place scoped out ahead of time, during daylight. After that they picked the lock and probably kept the door mostly shut so that nobody from the street would notice.”

 

“Sounds like an Elite Scout,” Callie murmured, and Marina nodded.

 

“Very likely. It’s not as though these skills are particularly exceptional in and of themselves, but I doubt anyone who wasn’t already very confident in their infiltration abilities would have even attempted all that here.”

 

“I’ve fought elites before.” Four huffed and slammed a firm fist into her palm. “I could take one alone.”

 

“We don’t know it’s only one,” Marie said harshly. “For all we know it’s an entire splatoon or more.” She crossed her arms and stared above Eight and Marina’s heads at the opposite wall. “Obviously they know who Three is and that’s why they targeted her specifically. It’s possible they’re out for revenge. I wouldn’t be surprised if they knew where she lived too.”

 

Eight and Marina both gasped. “That’s why Three went home right away.”

 

Callie forced a smile. “That’s our girl, always thinking ahead.”

 

“Hold on a second!” Pearl finally spoke up, no longer content to be a mere bystander. “That’s a huge escalation there, going from smearing someone’s car to killing their family. You’d have to be a psycho to do that.”

 

“For all we know, that’s what we’re dealing with.” Marie bit. “For someone to write what they wrote, they’d have to seriously hate whoever it was aimed at, hate with a burning passion.”

 

“Well, what did it say?” Pearl demanded. “I couldn’t understand a word of it.”

 

Marie suddenly appeared reluctant. Honestly they all were, but Pearl was right and it wasn’t fair to leave her out of that piece of information, so Eight, reluctantly, reiterated the insult in Inklish; although she doubted it came off as strong.

 

More than anger, Pearl looked puzzled.

 

“What the heck is a ‘shuunkri?’” She demanded.

 

“A mutant. An outcast, of sorts.” Marina answered. “Basically, someone with such poor genetic traits or constitution, or mutations that they are cast out and separated from Octarian society to protect the whole and prevent them from polluting the gene pool. They are considered the lowest of the low, a waste of the resources it took to get them that far in life. They’re sometimes left to fend for themselves in the wild or rot. In milder cases they’re reduced to more of a second-class citizen, sometimes even less than octo troopers.”

 

Pearl winced. “Yeesh. This is one serious insult.”

 

“We’ve established that,” Marie growled. “The question is how do we find out who and where this piece of trash is. We can’t let people get away with sullying Fulvia’s name.”

 

“Three’s mother?” Eight asked.

 

“Yes,” Callie replied, more softly than her cousin. “Three feels strongly about her still. I’m sure she’s more hurt right now than angry.”

 

“You’ve met her?”

 

There was another blast of bright orange through the mantles of Callie, Marie, and Four and then they all looked at each other questioningly, the orange now reduced to spots.

 

Pearl looked at them questioningly and changed her own mantle to match. They looked at each other, and then their Three guests all changed the same tone, one that Eight knew only too well: the white of death.

 

Pearl’s face contorted with regret and her mantle turned completely blue, her head bowing with what Eight could only guess was apology. Then, Pearl locked eyes with her and Marina and then told them very quietly and very softly: “Three’s mom is dead.”

 

Eight and Marina both felt as though they’d been punched in the gut very hard. Their faces went slack as colour drained from them, and their tentacles curled upwards.

 

They had no idea, none. In a place like Inkopolis where even the poor enjoyed better lives than most Octarians had, how could someone’s mother die so young?

 

“It was a car accident.” Callie said as she gingerly massaged Marie’s shoulders. “Three was only about seven years old. Her mother died right in front of her eyes and she got a neck injury that made it very hard for her to talk for months. That’s one of the reasons she’s not terribly chatty.”

 

Pearl crossed her arms, her face now wrinkled with an angry frown. “Any chance the writer of that message knew that?”

 

Marina stared up at the ceiling for a moment, thinking, and then her head tilted back down, her gaze falling to the floor. “I don’t know.” She shook her head violently and her face twisted as she struggled to contain a bubble of anger.

 

“We don’t hold all Octolings accountable for this,” Marie said. Her voice sounded strained and she was taking deep breaths. “You shouldn’t blame yourself.”

 

“You don’t understand,” Marina said through gritted teeth. “In Octarian society, mothers are precious, sacred. That’s why insulting someone’s mother is such a strong insult in our society. Mothers, even those who aren’t breeders, are rare, so they are treasured and protected. Our mothers are priceless to us individually as well. They are the ones who give us our names, our legacies, who give us a sense of family and drive to survive.”

 

Eight grasped Marina’s hand tightly, her own emotions started to well over her ability to keep them contained. “It’s true,” she said. “Whenever I was most scared or just wanted to give up, I’d remember mother’s voice and it would help keep me going. Losing your mother in the way Three did…” Eight swallowed hard. “It would be a tragedy that all Octarians would mourn.”

 

Four quirked an eyebrow. “So, you’re saying that a lot of Octarians would be mad at this too? Besides you two I mean.”

 

“Yes,” Marina croaked. She inhaled deeply through her nose and straightened her posture. “This goes beyond insult. Insulting someone’s mother is rare but it happens. What was written on that car though, that’s a level that would be considered taboo and had that happened in Octarian society, the consequences for the one responsible would be… unpleasant.”

 

“We don’t need Octarian society for that,” Marie said darkly. “Three is  _ Anu Eelae _ , and whoever did it will be found.” She stood, her eyes glaring through the wall directly ahead. “And when they are, they’ll beg for Three to splat them. But I doubt she’ll be inclined to be so merciful.”

 

Eight shivered, those eyes, previously burning, had now hardened with purpose, a vengeful will forged in the fires of her fury and sharpened by refocused intellect into a razor’s edge.

 

“Thanks for letting us know.” Marie gestured for Callie and Four to follow her out. “We’re going to go check on Three. We’ll let you know if something happens.”

 

“L-likewise.” Marina managed to say. Nothing more was said, as their guests left with a simple bow and shut the door behind them.

 

The three of them let out a single breath and slouched on the couch, suddenly feeling exhausted.

 

“That was close.” Pearl murmured. “I thought Marie was going to lose it for a second there.”

 

“I’ve never seen such intense eyes,” Marina whispered, half in fear, half in awe.

 

“It comes from our ancient ancestors.” Pearl pointed at her own nearly identical eyes. “It’s called the  _ Ome Saea _ ; God Eyes. It means we’re descended from the Dreadnought Squid, a species created by the Precursors, and all the squit that comes with that. Marie knows better than anyone. That’s why Callie forgot about getting mad and tried to calm her down.”

 

“I noticed that.” Marina frowned. “You never mentioned anything about this before.”

 

Pearl shrugged. “Never came up. I didn’t think I’d ever be in a situation where I’d get so mad I’d lose it.”

 

“Lose it?” Eight asked. “What happens?”

 

Pearl stared out the window and sighed. “Well, since you guys told me about your past, at least a little, you’ve earned a little from me too.”  _ And we can distract ourselves from being so damn mad about what happened to Three. _ She didn’t say.

 

“There’s not a lot to say though. Basically, if we’re put under crazy amounts of stress, some kind of defense instinct kicks in and we go nuts. Fortunately, it’s usually something like a life threatening situation when that happens.”

 

“And that happened to Marie?” Eight asked. She was an agent in the NSS so it would make sense that she would be in life threatening situations.

 

“Yeah, when she was a kid, which is pretty young for that to happen. Nobody even thought it was possible at that age. Well, as a result of that, she doesn’t have the barriers around that trigger like me or Callie do.”

 

“What happened?” Marina asked. “Do you know?”

 

“It’s not exactly a secret.” Pearl shrugged. “There’s no way a public figure like her could have kept what happened hidden. Heck, she’s probably the only idol who has a restraining order against her instead of the other way around. That’s not the sort of thing people miss. Remember when I mentioned that before?” Eight and Marina nodded and Pearl continued.

 

“But… but it was self-defense, right?” Eight asked uneasily.

 

“Ultimately, yeah. Plus, you’d have to be pretty messed up yourself to do what they did. It’s the sorta thing that hangs on you your whole life though. It’s pretty tactless when interviewers ask her about it but she usually handles it pretty well.”

 

Marina managed a nervous smile. “I imagine it would be unwise to make someone like her angry. Still, given how furious she obviously was, it seems all the more remarkable she kept her cool. That’s a good thing.”

 

“For everyone except whoever that vandal is.” Pearl grinned wickedly. “Now that she’s calmed down enough to think and not made any kind of scene, she’s gonna focus all her efforts into hunting down whoever’s responsible and I don’t need to tell you how powerful the Squid Sisters are, right?”

 

Eight nodded. “Especially among the octolings here…” Her eyes widened as she realized what Pearl was getting at.

 

“That’s right,” the Inkling chortled. “They’re a dead octopus walking. Even if they get away, they won’t be seeing the sun for quite a while.”

 

“Doubtless,” Marina agreed. “What was that word Marie used?”

 

Eight’s eyebrow rose slightly as she saw Pearl’s malevolent smile morph into one of tendernesses and an odd kind of serenity flowed out from her.

 

“ _ Anu Eelae: True Family.” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we ramp up the stakes and we add just a little more worldbuilding. You also don't want to make Marie angry. You wouldn't like her when she's angry.
> 
> Yes, in my headcanon, at least in this instance, humans had a hand in how Inklings and Octolings developed, which is one reason they are so different from the Octopodes and Squids and Cuttlefish all these species originated from. As for why we would do this... well... have any of you played the C&C red alert games? Do you remember the giant squids the USSR could make? Well, I wondered, what would happen to these genetically enhanced squids if humanity was gone? So that's where that idea, the Dreadnought Squid, comes from.
> 
> Thanks very much to everyone who's been following my story and leaving comments and kudos. I really appreciate it. You might have noticed that there is no longer a question mark on the chapter number. The end is nigh, unfortunately. I've loved writing this story and I'm glad so many of you have loved reading it. There are still plenty of chapters to go though so I hope you'll continue to enjoy them.


	22. You Can't Put Love in a Box

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Love comes in many forms, some of them overlap, others confuse love for mere obsession. Especially when you're young, it's hard to understand what love really is and those many forms it comes in. Nobody understands this more than the members of the NSS.

Katrina was a mess of mixed emotions as she stared at her reflection. A bunch of anxiety, a morsel of excitement, a sprinkle of anger.

 

She was wearing her black short dress that hugged her hips and was slit partly up her thigh. The skirt wasn’t that long to begin with either. Honestly it was pretty provocative for a first date, especially if that first date was someone she didn’t even like. Well, not really anyway.

 

Tani, in Katrina’s opinion, was too happy, friendly, and optimistic for her liking. It was almost the complete opposite of her more subdued and loner-type personality. 

 

_ So why the heck would she want to go on a date with me? She didn’t even know me before then. _ Well, she knew it was partly because she wanted to forget whatever troubles were nagging her, but anyone would have done for that. She could have dated Eight then, surely.

 

“So why me?” She asked herself again.

 

“It’s a little late to be asking that question, isn’t it?”

 

Katrina flinched and her head turned to see her mother standing in the doorway to her bedroom, looking very smug indeed. Katrina glowered at her and turned back to the mirror.

 

“I’m not in the mood, Mom,” she said acidly. Her mother just laughed.

 

“I’m not here to make fun of you, Katrina. I’m just here to help make sure you’re ready for your first girl date.”

 

Katrina snorted. “What’s the big deal? I’ve gone out with boys before. If anything, this’ll be easier. Besides, it’s not like she’s actually interested in me, and I’m two years younger.”

 

“Your iya, Clio once dated a boy four years younger than her when she was your age.”

 

“She dated a twelve-year old?” Katrina gave her a disgusted look via the mirror and Silvia laughed again.

 

“Well, she didn’t know he was twelve at the time. Besides, he was of colossus squid descent so he didn’t look it. The topic of being able to change form never came up either.”

 

She grabbed the small container of mantle gloss on the nearby dressed and began applying it, gently, to Katrina’s tentacles.

 

“When you go out with a girl, Katrina, you’re looking for something different than a mate. You’re looking for a companion, someone you can trust, someone you feel able to discuss your deepest, darkest issues with.”

 

“I thought that’s what you’d want in a mate too.”

 

“It’s not the same thing. Unfortunately, there are some problems you can only talk about with other females. Not that a male wouldn’t listen, but he wouldn’t know what to do and it would probably make him pretty uncomfortable. Not every girl needs a bondmate, but there are some that do and everyone needs a friend.”

 

“Whatever,” Katrina grumbled. “I’m just trying to get this over with. I don’t expect it to go anywhere.”

  
  


“We’ll see,” her mother sang. Katrina just groaned.

 

\------------------------

 

The evening was warm and the sun was just starting to set when Katrina arrived at the pre-arranged meeting spot. Tani was already there, dressed in a sky-blue mini-dress and white dress shoes. She also had white bows attached to her mantle.

 

_ Dammit, _ Katrina thought.  _ That can’t be how you dress for a date with another girl. You look too adorable. If I was much older you’d make me want to lay an egg! _ She shook her head vigorously. She hadn’t thought those things. Of course not, she never would think such things.

 

Tani greeted her with a brief brightening of her mantle and a warm smile. “That dress suits you.”

 

“Thanks,” Katrina replied dryly. “You look like you’re dressed for congregation.”

 

Tani shrugged. “This was the fanciest outfit I had without overdressing. Anyway, we’d better get going. I have a reservation.”

 

Her smile hadn’t wavered in the slightest. Katrina found that annoying. Wasn’t she the slightest bit nervous? Surely she hadn’t been on more dates than she had.

 

“Something wrong?” Tani looked up at her with those big yellow eyes, one eyebrow raised. Katrina looked away.

 

“Nothing’s wrong. Let’s just hurry up and get there. You’re the one who said there was a reservation.”

 

Tani giggled. “You’re trying so hard to be cool. It’s adorable.”

 

Katrina whirled around angrily, but the expression on her face was shock, not fury. Perhaps she was too stunned to be truly angry. But Tani barely acknowledged her reaction before she grabbed her hand and started to pull her along, leading her deeper into the city.

 

Katrina wound up maintaining a silently stewing silence as she reluctantly let Tani guide her by the hand to wherever they were going. They were already in a rather uptown part of Inkopolis, and things were only getting fancier as they kept moving.

 

When she started seeing groups of cars that she knew cost more than some houses parked along the street and filling parking lots, she became very anxious indeed. Just what kind of place was Tani taking her to? Wait, was she actually rich? No, surely not. Someone this rich would have had an outfit for this occasion, not merely used the best she had in her closet.

 

“Here we are.” Tani stopped them before a large glass pane storefront. Above the door, in glowing neon cursive, it said, “The Silver Pool.” That sounded as fancy as the place looked and Katrina could only gape as she was led inside.

 

In the atrium, a lobster standing behind a podium greeted them. Already, the place looked fancy, with colourful flowery plants and a rock fountain tucked in one corner. Recessed lighting almost made it look as if the illumination was coming from somewhere immaterial.

 

The lobster lead them into the dining area where things only seemed to get fancier. Sapphire-blue floor tiles were broken up by little black diamond shaped ones. The walls and ceilings were clad in dark polished wood and gave the place an air of sophistication and luxury completely foreign to her.

 

They were seated at a table between a pair of tall plants, given menus and then the lobster left.

 

“Get whatever you like,” Tani told her. “It’s all on me.”

 

_ No kidding. _ Katrina thought. This was the sort of place that would probably charge for a glass of water. Still, how could she afford this? Had she saved up her whole life?

 

She peeked above her menu at her date but Tani didn’t appear to be looking at it- or anything really. Her gaze was distant, unfocused. It was the look of someone who had a lot of their mind. Had she been hiding behind her smile and she simply hadn’t noticed? Then again, she had mostly been looking at the back of Tani’s head since they met up.

 

_ Well, if I’m the older one I should probably act like it a little.  _ Besides, she had a pretty good idea what was on her mind.

 

“What’s up with you?” She prefaced. “Still thinking about what happened to Maiya’s car?”

 

Tani’s mantle flared red for a second before it cooled back to it’s natural yellow. “Yeah. We still haven’t gotten any leads about who might have done it.”

 

“Why bother?” Katrina slouched in her seat. “It was just a prank. Sure, it’s not cool, it was a low blow, but I’ve seen worse. I once saw a jealous girlfriend take a baseball bat to her boyfriend’s car. Wasn’t pretty.”

 

Four hummed thoughtfully. “Interesting point. It could have been a lot worse. They put so much hate into that message. It was a personal attack. So why not take it further? Why not go all out?”

 

Katrina shrugged. “Like I said, it was probably just a prank-.”

 

“It wasn’t just a prank.” Katrina flinched at Tani’s acid tone, and the younger inkling stared at her with eyes like raging suns.

 

“It was a deliberate attack meant to cut Maiya and cut her deep. Eight told me what that message means in their society and it wasn’t just some odd prank, it was practically a declaration of war.”

 

Katrina rolled her eyes. “Isn’t that a little bit-.”

 

“No.” Tani cut her off. “Eight wasn’t exaggerating. She meant it. And if we don’t find this person, they might do something worse next time and there will be a next time. Trust me.”

 

Katrina wasn’t sure what to say to that. This was her first time seeing Tani without that stupid smile of hers and the girl had such resolve and sounded so completely sure of what she was saying. Thinking about it, that rather narrowed the scope of who might have done this sort of thing.

 

“So, basically, whoever did it has a personal beef with Maiya, probably someone she crossed pretty badly. And, whoever did it, did it to make a statement, not just to Maiya, but to other people too.”

 

Tani frowned. “What do you mean?”

 

“I mean,why bother leaving a message the way they did? If they just wanted to hurt Maiya they could have just trashed the car instead of leaving a message.”

 

“A message written in Octese.” Tani added thoughtfully. “They did seem to want people to know it was an Octarian that did it.”

 

“Right, and those octolings all seem like a tight-knit bunch. Somehow, I don’t think one of them could have or would have done something like that without at least some of the others knowing.”

 

Tani tugged on one of her short tentacles thoughtfully. “Maybe, but I don’t think most of the other octolings like it.”

 

“Probably not. I doubt Hani and her group will like it. They were really interested in learning about Fulvia once Maiya showed up and the old stories started spreading around again. Besides, they really like Maiya.”

 

“I noticed.” Tani grinned. “They all totally freaked out when she gave them those keychains.” Then, her eyes went wide with revelation.

 

“Wait a minute. It was while we were there that you told them where Maiya’s car was.”

 

Katrina’s expression changed to match Tani’s. “And if they blabbed about it to some of their other friends later…”

 

“Then one of those other octolings might have been part of the group that did this.”

 

“Assuming it is a group,” Tani pointed out. “Still, it does sound like Octraian thinking alright.”

 

“I can ask them about it,” Katrina offered. “I see them pretty much all the time after all.”

 

Tani’s sunny smile returned. “Thanks, but you probably shouldn’t.” Katrina frowned and Tani explained. “Even if you know them and you start asking them, because you’re an Inkling, they might feel… um… what’s the word? Persecuted?”

 

“Yeah.” Katrina stared down at the table. “I guess I didn’t think about that. I sure wouldn’t want someone coming around and asking me what I had to do with someone’s dead mom getting slammed.”

 

“Right. So, maybe we can let Eight handle it. She’s another Octoling and I’m pretty sure she can talk to them the right way.”

 

Katrina shrugged. “Sure, might as well let her try it.” She looked at her menu again.

 

“Now that that’s done, let’s order something. I’m starving. I skipped my regular dinner time because of this date, you know.”

 

Tani laughed. “Then I guess we’d better hurry and order before you eat me instead.”

 

“Meh, you’d probably be chewy anyway.”

 

“Probably. And Katrina?”

 

“Hm?”

 

The two locked eyes, purple of swirling darkness meeting yellow eyes of pure sunlight.

 

“Thank you.”

 

There it was again, that big, blinding smile that somehow always got under Katrina’s skin. Except, this time, it didn’t. For reasons Katrina was unable to explain, that smile suddenly wasn’t annoying, it was… beautiful. And, without realizing it, she smiled back.

 

“You’re welcome.”

 

\------------------------------

 

The sun was almost down and the street lights were taking over the job of illuminating the city. Callie was finding her pink beanie and sweater a bit much in this warm weather and was grateful to see the sun finally set.

 

She sat cross-legged, a large book on her lap of the sort she never expected to have to read, and her back leaning against the wall. She hummed a tune she had been tossing around in her head for the past few days, changing it up here and there to try and get it sounding the right way in her head.

 

There was the muffled sound of grinding metal followed by a soft curse and she looked up from the book with a small smile.

 

Three dragged herself out from under the car, carrying with her the car’s radiator. Her overalls, immaculate when she had purchased them, were now dotted with permanent dark stains and filthy with dust. Three herself had a few dark streaks on her face.

 

“What’s next?”

 

Callie put the book down and picked up the nearby thermos. “Take a break, Three. It took you forever to get that radiator out and you’re exhausted. Take a minute to catch your breath.”

 

Objection crossed Three’s face and she hesitated. Callie poured some hot tea from the thermos into a cup and then gently blew across its surface. Then she smiled more broadly and offered it to Three. The younger Inkling sighed and moved to sit on a small stool next to Callie, accepting the tea.

 

When they had left Off the Hook’s penthouse to go find Three, she had called them instead, telling them she was fine and she just wanted to check on her family. They eventually met up at Cuttlefish Cabin and Three had seemed shaken, but holding together remarkably well.

 

Callie put the thermos back down and regarded the girl she had so quickly become close to. It was hard to believe that just two years ago, Three had been a total stranger, one they’d been forced to trust. Now, she was family and Callie trusted her with her life. Three had grown and matured so much since then. Perhaps they both had.

 

“Are you sure you should be here?” Three asked. “I know how busy you are.”

 

Callie shrugged. “I’m not all that busy, for me anyway. Besides, I am technically working right now.” Three raised a questioning eyebrow and Callie explained.

 

“I’m going to be auditioning for a new movie. It’s one that involves cars a lot, especially my role. Since I don’t know much about cars I figured coming here to help you out a little might help.”

 

“Oh. That makes sense, I guess.” She took another sip of her tea and Callie rested a hand on her back.

 

“I’m proud of you, you know? You had more reason to be mad than anyone, but I think you kept your cool better than any of us.”

 

“I am mad!” Three snapped, but Callie didn’t flinch, not even as Three’s burning red eyes locked with hers. “I’ve done everything I could to keep my identity a secret, and the only time I ever attacked an octoling was in turf war, and that was by accident!” Her lips curled back, revealing her beak, and her eyes flashed with something dangerous. “For the first time in my life, I have someone, an octoling, I actually  _ want  _ to kill.”

 

Callie stared back into those eyes, her own gaze steady and level. Then, Three’s eyes started to glisten and Callie, very tenderly, cupped Three’s furious face in her hands and drew it close.

 

“You don’t have to be big bad Agent 3 all the time.” She whispered. “Sometimes, it’s okay to let yourself be a teenager.”

 

Three swallowed and then gently lay her forehead against Callie’s.

 

“Callie,” she whispered, so softly one could barely hear. “You know I love you, right?”

 

“Yes,” Callie answered, just as softly.

 

“And Marie knows I love her too, right?”

 

“Of course. And we both love you, Three. Very much.”

 

“And what about Cortina?” 

 

The distinction caught Callie slightly off guard, but she quickly recovered and hugged her tightly, ignoring the filth on her coveralls, holding one hand to the back of her head.

 

“Yes,” she said firmly. “I love you, Cortina Scarletteri. We both do, so much.”

 

She felt Three- no, Cortina, shudder in her hold and closed her eyes slowly as sniffles began, followed by the tears and finally the screams, the tortured screams of a girl who had been forced to relive every second of her beloved mother dying in front of her eyes. Again, an aching soul wondering who could possibly say anything so hateful to someone she held so dear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heh, so many theories last chapter in the comments about who the culprit could be. There are certainly plenty of candidates. I'm glad I hid their identity enough that people are still unsure. I just hope the payoff is good.
> 
> Do you think 4 and Katrina should be an item or do you think they're too incompatible? Maybe they need a few more dates to find out? ;)


	23. Plans Go Awry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eight goes to investigate who might have discovered Three's identity and perhaps gets a little over her head.

Even after meeting them so many times, Eight couldn’t help but feel in awe whenever she was in the presence of the Squid Sisters. Familiarity couldn’t dilute their beauty or their charisma. Pearl’s reveal that they were descended from what had once been the oceans apex predator only added to their greatness, in spite of the negative aspects that apparently came with that legacy.

 

The New Squidbeak Splatoon, sans Agent 3, were gathered in front of Cuttlefish Cabin. Marie had just put down Captain Cuttlefish for a nap, leaving the four of them to discuss how to proceed with the vandal.

 

Agent 4 had just finished talking about her conversation with Katrina and the conclusions they had drawn. Eight had to admit, it made sense, and even with modern technology, the news of Thee’s car being at Rex’s Garage wouldn’t have spread all that far, since it was gossip that would only be relevant or even interesting to a relatively small group.

 

“And someone in that group had to know Three’s identity beforehand.” Marie concluded. “When they found that out, they discovered a chance to get at her. We don’t think they know where she lives yet, otherwise they might have gone after her family. So far, they haven’t.”

 

“Yeah,” Four agreed. “If they didn’t know she was Agent 3, why would they have done it? There’s no way it’s just random.”

 

Eight had to agree as well. “I don’t think any of the Octolings at the car meet suspected though. If they had, I doubt they would have acted so friendly with her.”

 

“Not with her reputation,” Marie said. “But, then again, Octolings aren’t known for being cowardly. It’s certainly possible one or two might have been able to keep their cool and act ignorant to try and get closer to her. Trying to learn her weaknesses.”

 

“Hmm, sounds vaguely familiar.” Four nudged Eight playfully. Eight scowled at her, unamused.

 

“Anyway,” Callie interjected. “Eight, you’re the only one who can really talk to those Octolings directly with even a chance of avoiding suspicion. We’re counting on you.”

 

“I won’t let you down,” she said firmly. “I won’t let Three down.”

 

Callie smiled. “We know you won’t.”

 

That smile was incredible in so many ways. Instantly it blew away Eight’s apprehensions like smoke in the wind, and cast divine light into the dark corners of her soul. It made her feel more confident in her mission than she thought she deserved.

 

“While you’re doing that,” Marie said. “We’ll be here trying to find info in the Captain’s records. If he has info on any of the Octolings you find, we might be able to narrow the search.”

 

Eight nodded. “Is there anything else?”

 

“No, you should probably go if you want to get there at a reasonable time. Just be careful because you won’t have any immediate backup.”

 

“I will. Don’t worry.”

 

After Eight vanished through the grate back to the square, Marie looked at Agent 4. “You know what to do.”

 

Four nodded and stood, grabbing her Hero Dualies. “No prob. I’ll keep an eye on her.”

 

“Just remember what Three taught you about stealth.”

 

“I will and I’ll be careful.” She grinned cockily. “Trust me.”

 

Marie uttered a soft sigh. “I do trust you.”

 

“Then don’t worry. I’ll be fine.” Four hurried off and vanished into the grate.

 

Now it was Callie’s turn to sigh, and she sat upon the small pillow on the veranda.

 

“Marie, I wonder if we’re getting too old for this.”

 

Marie rolled her eyes. “Callie, we’re not even twenty. You’re just… tired, that’s all.” She sat next to her and Callie leaned her head on her shoulder.

 

“Maybe I’m already starting to develop maternal instincts. Or maybe I’m just tired of this whole Us vs. Them thing.”

 

“You’re not the only one. I’m sure most Octolings feel the same way, at least the ones that came to Inkopolis.”

 

“It’s more than that.” Callie’s voice was soft, yet oddly fragile. 

 

Marie regarded her with concern, concern fueled by that time apart, when Callie had not been within reach, when she’d been made a slave in her own mind. Marie wrapped one arm around her and held her close. She was all too aware of the things that lead to that and was determined to prevent it happening again.

 

“Callie, talk to me.”

 

Callie smiled. “Don’t you get worrying about  _ me _ now. I’m fine, Marie, it’s just… just that I think I’ve realized I can’t really be a kid anymore.”

 

Marie chuckled. “Yeah right. You’ll always be a kid some way, Callie. It’s what I and so many other people like about you.”

 

Callie giggled. “I guess you’re right. Even so, I need a change in my life. We’re both going to be legally adults soon, after all.”

 

“True. So, does that mean you want to go ahead and bring Three in permanently?”

 

Callie nodded. “It’s her choice and I know she won’t want to leave but I really think we’ll need her.”

 

Marie leaned her head on hers and exhaled slowly. “I think you’re right. Once we deal with this, we’ll talk to her about it.”

 

“And, maybe we could bring Four in too,” Callie suggested with a wry smile. “Otherwise you’ll get worried.”

 

Marie rolled her eyes and stood up. “Come on. Let’s get looking through those files.”

 

Callie giggled. “Coming.”

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Eight had gotten used to taking the bus thanks to these trips to the car meet. The final bus on the route up the mountain was almost deserted. It gave her time to herself, to think. She needed to do a lot of thinking with what she was about to do.

 

Even if she didn’t believe Hani or her friends were responsible, if she phrased her questions wrong or pressed too hard, she might come across as hostile and that was the last thing she wanted if she was going to get some answers. She would have to tread lightly and start off casual. Still, this wouldn’t be easy. Verbal communication had never been her strong suit.

 

The bus deposited her a short distance from the parking lot. The noise generated by the nightly car meet was loud as ever. One might think they would get tired of doing this every night but Inklings seemed to treat fun activities as something of a religious ritual at times. Certainly splatfests seemed to hold that status.

 

A few familiar faces smiled and waved in her direction as she stepped onto the parking lot. She smiled and waved back. She was glad to see them, even if she wasn’t happy about the reason she was here.

 

_ Just act casual, _ she told herself.  _ It’s just a regular day for you, despite what’s happened. Just like it is for everyone else. _

 

Picking out the three van’s of Hani’s group was simple and all of the octolings appeared to be there. Hopefully, that would make things easier. More of them being there meant less running around later.

 

“Hello Hani,” she greeted warmly. “How is everyone?”

 

Hani and the other octolings turned. Eight thought their smiles appeared awkward or perhaps sad smiles?

 

“Hello, Eight.” Hani greeted. “How have you been?”

 

“Alright I suppose,” Eight did her best to maintain her cheer, but she didn’t want to oversell it, especially given the mood that seemed to settle on everyone. “Is everything alright?”

 

Hani shrugged. “It’s just that we heard about what happened to Maiya’s car. I can’t imagine an inkling knowing Octese so it really seems like an Octoling was responsible.”

 

“Seems like it.” Eight took a moment to organize her thoughts and then proceeded to ask, “I don’t suppose you have any ideas who might have done it? I mean, it had to be someone who knew Maiya’s car was there. They even knew exactly which garage because there was no sign of break-in on any of the other stalls.”

 

Hani frowned. “How do you know that?”

 

“I was there when it was discovered. I was with Maiya and Rex.” She decided not to mention Marina’s presence, even as her alias. It was possible she knew already but— no, it was important not to second guess herself, she didn’t have the luxury.

 

“I see,” Hani replied. “So, I suppose that does narrow down the list of possible suspects, doesn’t it?”

 

Eight nodded. “But I didn’t want to go around accusing everyone. So far, octolings have been making a good name for themselves in this city, especially here in this car… community.”

 

Hani smiled proudly. “We do try. We’ve been nothing but welcomed and it’s nice to leave the past behind us.”

 

“Right,” Eight agreed. “But what was written on that windshield is unacceptable, especially by our own standards.”

 

“Unacceptable yes,” Hani agreed. “But, is it a crime? Even if we do find out who did it, what are we supposed to do?”

 

“They did trespass and they did break into that garage. Even aside from that, the message they wrote is horrible and reflects badly on all of us. I understand if this particular octoling doesn’t like inklings but why would they have to go after Maiya? What could she have done to warrant that level of insult? Back home, that would have meant entire splatoons going on the warpath.”

 

Hani sighed. “So, you’re speaking entirely from principle?”

 

“Isn’t that even more important than law? Isn’t law meant to support core principles?” Eight argued.

 

“I suppose. But what makes you so certain that Maiya didn’t do something to antagonize someone so severely? What makes you think she doesn’t deserve it? Do you know her well enough to vouch for her integrity in that regard?”

 

“I do.” Eight said firmly. “I know it can be tough to get over our mistrust of Inklings but I trust her with my life.”

 

Hani’s eyes narrowed. Did she doubt her? Had Eight not convinced her? She finally sighed and gave Eight a smile.

 

“Well, it’s hard to argue when you’re so earnest and certain like that.” She nodded to the others and they began retreating into their vans. “We’ll take you back to the building we’ve been staying in. There are more octolings there you can talk to and maybe find the answers you’re looking for.”

 

“Oh - Oh! Well, okay then. I’m thankful for your help.”

 

“I can’t promise you’ll be popular by the end of it though,” Hani warned as they got in the van and the door was shut.

 

“I’m not trying to be popular. I’m trying to do what’s right.”

 

Hani nodded, staring straight ahead. “We all are.”

 

Eight jerked as she felt a stab of pain on the back of her neck. Her vision swam and spun, and then everything went black.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

“What are you doing you idiot?” Four whispered harshly as she saw Eight get in the van with the other octolings. That was all kinds of bad ideas. 

 

She hoped she knew what Eight was doing, but they way they all moved out together, the urgency with which they all moved, and the way Eight was hurried into the van made her all kinds of suspicious.

 

Four hurried down from her treetop hiding place and rushed towards the road, loading her Hero Charger with a special projectile that was not ink based. The vans began to extricate themselves from the parking lot. Four found the one Eight had been in and fired a medium-power shot that hit the vans rear bumper, depositing the small tracker that attached itself and began transmitting its position.

 

“Wish I had a car or something of my own.” Four muttered, and she turned on her radio.

 

“Agent 4 to Base. We have a problem.”

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

“How could she be so stupid?” Marie groaned, rubbing her hands over her face. She and Callie had just finished hearing about the situation from Four and now they probably had a hostage situation to deal with.

 

“Agent 2, we don’t know if she's been abducted.” Callie cautioned. “Four, did it look like she was forced into the van?”

 

“No,” Four answered warily. “She looked excited to be going. It’s how the other octolings acted that bothers me. There was no reason for them all to go somewhere together if Eight was just getting a ride.”

 

“Speaking of which,” Marie began. “Any idea how you’ll be able to travel to wherever the tracker stops? So far, it shows they’re still moving but they’re going to the South end of the city. It’ll take you too long to get there by bus.”

 

“I might have a way. If it doesn’t work I’ll check back with you.”

 

“Is this going to violate any rules of confidentiality?” The warning in Marie’s town was strong but not to the point of implying inflexibility, Callie thought.

 

“Maybe?” Four replied coyly. “Hopefully not.”

 

Marie sighed. “Fine, just try to be as discreet as you can. We’ll wait here until we find their ultimate destination.”

 

“We’ll call Marina too.” Callie said.

 

“What?” Marie stared at her incredulously. “What happened to confidentiality? She doesn’t know we’re agents.”

 

“And we don’t need to tell her,” Callie replied. “She knows Four and Three are agents and we can just say we heard about what happened from Four. After what happened to Three, she’d probably be more surprised if we weren’t involved somehow. Besides, she knows who Gramps is and I doubt she’d be convinced we didn’t know about the NSS at least.”

 

“She’s got a point,” Four said after a moment. “And Marina would be mad as heck after if you didn’t tell her.”

 

Marie sighed. “Alright, alright. Four, you get going. We don’t know how far they’ll end up going but I doubt they’ll leave Inkopolis.”

 

“Roger dodger.” Four replied cheerfully. “See you in a bit, Agent 2. Four Out.”

 

Marie picked up her phone and Callie noted her hesitation.

 

“What’s wrong, Agent 2?”

 

“I’m calling Agent 3. She has a right to know and she’ll want to be involved.”

 

“She’s going to be upset we didn’t involve her from the beginning.”

 

“Well, things didn’t go as planned,” Marie said through gritted teeth. “It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have let Eight go like that.”

 

“That’s why you had Four watching her.” Callie said soothingly. She put a hand on Marie’s hip and patted it gently. “Everything will work out. Three and Four won’t let anything happen to Eight.”

 

Marie nodded slowly. “Even so, I can’t help but feel like we’re missing something, something very important. I just can’t put my finger on it yet.” She frowned thoughtfully. “After we make our calls, let’s see what Gramps has on this girl, Hani.”

 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

“Hani, are you sure about this?”

 

Hani kept her back to the speaker as she fastened her armour into place. It was the first time she’d worn in it months but muscle memory helped her put it on with the efficiency of many years practice.

 

“If I wasn’t, do you really think I’d have gone through all that trouble?”

 

The octoling behind her clicked her tongue irritatedly. “But did you have to write  _ that _ ? That might have been fine back in the army but-.”

 

“Nobody ever truly leaves the army.” Hani cut her off. “It stays with us for our entire lives.” She slipped her goggles onto her head and finally turned. “If it didn’t, we wouldn’t have to do this, Gira.”

 

The other octoling gritted her beak and averted her gaze. “It’s always all or nothing with you, isn’t it?”

 

“All or nothing is how we’ve always done it,” Hani replied, picking up her octoshot. “It’s how we got the zapfish both times, and even one of Captain Cuttlefish’s own grandchildren.”

 

“And brought yet another agent against us,” Gira countered. “We left for a reason, you know.”

 

“Yes,” Hani agreed. “To leave that life behind, at least as much as we could.” She brought a hand to her armoured breastplate, her fingers tracing the lip of an all too familiar dent. “But do you really think we’ll be able to live happy lives with the Green Demon watching us all the time, just waiting for us to slip enough to give her an excuse to splat us?” She met Gira’s eyes firmly.

 

“I was the one who found out her actual colour. She’s called the ‘Green’ Demon because of my work. I’ve observed her during battle, forced to sit and do nothing as she slaughtered my fellow soldiers, including your entire splatoon.” Her green eyes hardened. “Not again. This time I’m not going to be passive, not when I can give my own orders.”

 

Gira’s own eyes turned opaque and her lips curled back in a snarl. “I haven’t forgotten what she did to my splatoon, to girls I’ve known for years, splatted the closest thing I have to a mother outside the spawning pools.”

 

“And as long as she’s around, you’ll never be able to let that go.” Hani patted her shoulder and stood next to her, facing the opposite way. “We’re not doing this because we want to, we’re doing it because we have to.”

 

Gira glanced sideways at her. “Even if this does work, it could still have dire consequences for us.”

 

“I know. But I’d rather take my chances than live my life in fear anymore.” She let out a breath and then released Gira’s shoulder and left the room. 

 

Hani walked down a long corridor overlooked by walkways on the second floor. The large number of support pillars and half-height walls Hani passed by provided ample cover from anyone shooting from those walkways but that was actually a good thing, as it suited Hani’s plan perfectly.

 

She went through the door at the end of the corridor into a room that had piles of crates and boxes stacked into makeshift walls, creating a smaller room within it. In the centre, Eight sat on a chair, her head hanging limply. Octolings stood on either side of her. One of them, a lavender eyed girl named Kifi, shot her a glare as she entered. Hani ignored it.

 

“Is she still out?”

 

Kifi’s eyes narrowed, as if focusing the intensity of her glare, then she looked back down at Eight.

 

“The venom’s effects haven’t worn off yet. It will probably be another hour or so before she comes to.”

 

Hani nodded. “Good enough. What about the other preparations?”

 

“Almost ready,” Kifi replied tartly. She then turned to look at Hani again. “Don’t you think it’s rather overkill what we’re putting into it?”

 

Hani put a hand on her hip and raised an eyebrow. “Considering who we’re facing? We once threw a whole army at her and it didn’t work. There’s no such thing as overkill with the demon.”

 

Kifi scowled and looked again at Eight, this time, caressing the young octoling’s face with a bare hand. “Sacrificing her like this goes beyond overkill.”

 

“We’ve been over this. This plan relies on bait and she’s probably the best we could ask for. At least she has a good chance to survive this plan.”

 

“A  _ fair _ chance is what you said last time,” Kifi seethed.

 

“You had your chance to argue against the plan,” Hani snapped. “You were all for it.”

 

“Because I didn’t expect you to sacrifice a  _ child _ has bait!”

 

“She’s a soldier the same as us. You think I want to do this to her? I don’t. I wanted to keep being friends, but it’s obvious who’s side she’s on. We had no choice. If we didn’t have her tied up she’d be one of those fighting to get in here. And let’s not forget, she’s a mutant.”

 

Kifi turned her back to her. She held the tentacle from the back-right of Eight’s head, looking slightly misformed compared to the others. “Androarmatation isn’t uncommon. Everyone knows at least one.”

 

“She still wouldn’t be allowed to breed,” Hani said. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter. She has a chance at survival and if all goes well, then only one person dies.”

 

“We’ll see,” Kifi said darkly. “Because if it doesn’t, we’ll probably all die.”

 

“All or nothing.” Hani replied. “It’s the army motto for a reason.”

 

“Then, for all our sakes, let’s hope it’s ‘all,’ Because the last three times, the army ended up with ‘nothing.’” Kifi turned around and left the room, leaving Hani alone with Eight.

 

_ Not that I’m not used to being alone. _ She thought. Well, no matter; she was the officer in charge and everyone had become a part of this operation of their own free will. Their own professionalism and pride would be enough to keep them in it long enough for it to be carried out. After that, who knew what would happen.

 

_ But at least we won’t have the demon to deal with anymore. _ Then, maybe, they and other octolings coming to Inkopolis would feel truly free. They could live without fear, without the knowledge that a vengeful inkling could come at them any time from anywhere. That was something worth fighting for.

 

Hani’s tentacle shifted to black and she slid her goggles down in front of her eyes. “Time to get to work.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No plan survives contact with the enemy, as the saying goes.
> 
> I hope I managed to make the Octrarians sympathetic or at least make their motivations understandable. Stay tuned for next chapter when the gang gets together.


	24. Conflicting Realities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The rescue team gathers and plots while the kidnappers prepare to meet them.

“We’re almost there.”

 

Katrina glanced to her left at Tani, who was staring down at her phone. It was odd seeing her without that bright smile she always had. In fact, the shock of seeing her without that smile was probably one of the reasons she had been willing to give her a ride. Although, Tani hadn’t revealed precisely why she needed a ride in the first place.

 

Tani was wearing a strange getup too. The bright, hi-visibility jacket seemed to glow in the darkness of the cabin every time the lights of an oncoming car hit it. There was the weird glowing headphones too, but at least her boots looked pretty high-grade. No doubt expensive.

 

She still wasn’t sure how Tani had been able to afford that expensive dinner, but it was starting to look like she came from a wealthy family.  _ Unless she has a sugar daddy somewhere. _ But she doubted Tani was the type to be into that sort of thing, at least not knowingly. Still, it was often the last ones you suspected.

 

“You can pull over here,” Tani said suddenly. “I’ll walk the rest of the way.”

 

Katrina stared at her incredulously. “What? You’re just gonna have me drive you all this way and then ditch me?” 

 

“I can pay you back for the gas-.”

 

“That’s not what I’m talking about!” Katrina pulled over and parked the car next to the curb. “I don’t know exactly what’s going on but if Eight’s gone missing and Hani and her crew are involved, then it involves me too. My mother is the matron of our shoal and, as her daughter, I have a responsibility to investigate and witness.”

 

Tani looked at her with a raised eyebrow and a wry smile. “Are you sure you’re not just acknowledging that responsibility because it gives you an excuse to snoop?”

 

“Hey! If I never cared about that responsibility, do you think I’d spend every single night at the car meet? There are other things I wanna do too.”

 

They stared at each other for a very protracted moment before Tani finally shrugged. “Okay, but you have to promise not to tell anyone about this.”

 

Katrina frowned. “Why?” Then Tani’s eyes narrowed dangerously and Katrina felt a small chill as the younger inkling’s mantle turned a warning red.

 

“Your word,” Tani said firmly. She held her gaze and Katrina felt her stubborn will cave in, her mantle flashing white in submission.

 

“My word,” she agreed.

 

Tani flashed green with acknowledgement and retrieved her very expensive looking dualies from the back seat. Katrina still wasn’t sure why she had them with her. While it wasn’t illegal to have them, shooting them outside of designated zones was very frowned upon. Using them on another person was even worse.

 

They crossed the street and Katrina found herself following Tani on a long path that overlapped itself several times. She wondered if Tani had gotten lost somehow but she always looked like she knew where she was going and hadn’t once taken out her phone. Instead, she spent all her time looking around at the buildings and the trees, as if searching for something. But what?

 

Eventually they came to a small wooded area, what looked like a semi-abandoned park. It was badly overgrown with only a few patches of flattened grass where a handful of people seemed to frequent. With partly dilapidated buildings all around them, it certainly wasn’t the sort of neighbourhood Katrina would have thought Tani to be so comfortable with, and yet, the other girl seemed totally unconcerned.

 

She crouched behind a bush and stared across the street at a small warehouse with boarded up windows and a badly weathered brick exterior. The place looked like it hadn’t been maintained in a decade.

 

“Is that where they’re keeping her?” Katrina whispered.

 

“It’s where they’re keeping the vans,” Tani answered. “But probably. It looks like a pretty defensible building with the windows all boarded up. Hard to tell if they have anyone posted on the roof from here. They’ll have defensive works built up inside and they’ll have Eight in a secure room.”

 

Katrina frowned deeper. The cynical part of her thought Tani might have seen a few too many movies, and yet, she sounded like someone who had done this countless times before. She couldn’t imagine how or why. Even if she was great at turf war, the sport was nothing like this.

 

“So, are we supposed to go in and rescue her then?”

 

“Eventually,” was all she said in reply.

 

Katrina wanted a better answer than that but she had a feeling she wasn’t going to get it. Besides, if she sounded like she was complaining, she was certain Tani would remind her that it had been her own choice to come.

 

Minutes passed as they waited in silence. Tani even turned off her flashing headphones, but she kept them on her head. It didn’t seem like she was listening to music though.

 

She saw Tani perk up and Katrina stiffened. “What’s wrong?”

 

Tani just smiled. “Nothing. Just that our backup’s finally finished taking out the sentries.”

 

Katrina stared at her. “What? What sentries?” She looked around. “And what backup?”

 

Tani giggled, as if it were a game, causing a surge of irritation in Katrina. “Come on, I’ll take you to meet them.”

 

Tani lead her to a dense cluster of bushes near the back of the park, away from the warehouse they had been staking out, and out of sight. The younger sat down cross-legged on the grass and waited for whoever this ‘backup’ was to show up. She didn’t have to wait long.

 

Barely a second after she sat down a shape morphed into existence barely a metre away. Black on black against the night, even without the camouflage they had been employing, they wore an all black cropped jacket and tight shorts, revealing a fair amount of skin, including a slightly discoloured patch on her lower-right abdomen. The fashion was eerily reminiscent of what she’d seen the octolings wear, but the new figure’s long black tentacles clearly indicated an inkling, as did the shape of their ears.

 

Hard magenta eyes locked with Katrina’s only for a second but it was enough to make her blood go cold. They then moved on to Tani.

 

“Agent 4,” she greeted Tani with cold impassivity. “We found only two guards hiding out in the bushes here. Agent Two eliminated one on the roof. Your assessment?”

 

Katrina swallowed hard at the word “eliminated”, while Tani’s smile, which had not faltered even under the ice cold gaze of this frankly chilling inkling, finally waned and her expression turned serious.

 

“I’m willing to bet Eight will be on the top floor. Octarians always like to make their treasures hardest to get. The real problem is that we don’t know the layout of the building so that’ll make planning her extraction totally improvised. Also, there’s bound to be at least two dozen octolings in there and they’re probably highly motivated.”

 

Katrina had to do a double take, trying to reconcile that very professional sounding report with the happy-go-lucky type of girl she’d come to expect. It was as if Tani had taken on a whole other persona, this, Agent 4. Agent of what?

 

“Motivated by what though?” The black one asked. “We still don’t know why they kidnapped Eight in the first place.”

 

Tani shrugged and then looked over at Katrina. “You’ve known Hani and her crew a while, right? Can you think of why?”

 

Katrina’s body went rigid, suddenly put on the spot, and under the gaze of the black inkling across from her, her mantle blanched.

 

“Uh, no. I already told you on the way over that I can’t think of any way. I mean, they’ve been so friendly and nice to everyone. They’re hard workers. Sure, they kept mostly to themselves outside of the car meets but that’s pretty normal. They were happy.” That last bit sounded lame and stupid but she didn’t take it back. She didn’t know what else to say.

 

Those magenta eyes bored into her for a moment and then seemed to relax ever so slightly.

 

“I see. Well, Ms. Trailmaker, your familiarity with these Octolings is still quite important. You will be witness for Matron Trailmaker. Unless I’m mistaken, those Octolings are part of her shoal.”

 

Katrina clenched her jaw. Yes, that was true, wasn’t it? If they really did kidnap Eight, and if they really were responsible for what happened with Maiya’s car then her mother was going to have to get involved, and she was going to be mad as eternal fire when she found out.

 

“Yeah,” she responded weakly. “But they were always upstanding and good members. They’ve never done anything to suggest they were capable of this.”

 

“Nothing while they were in your shoal.” The black one amended, and then she turned her head as another shape emerged from the silence.

 

Katrina actually flinched at their sudden appearance. They moved so silently, in spite of the bushes. Her eyes and mantle were a luscious lime but lacked the utter coldness of the black one, more calculating and inquisitive. She sat across from Tani in much the same cross-legged fashion, and then her eyes sharpened in the young one’s direction. A split second later, Tani sat up with her back straight, which seemed to placate that very quick glare. Katrina wondered what that was about.

 

“Agent 2,” the black one addressed her. “Spot anything else?”

 

“Not much, but I was able to get on the roof and listen in for a little bit. Sounds like most of the activity is downstairs. I can hear them setting up barricades. I wish we had a layout of the warehouse but it’s mostly catwalks upstairs and maybe one or two rooms that might have been offices at some point, just judging by the sounds.”

 

Katrina stared in disbelief. She could tell all that just by sound? How? Did she just understand Octolings that well?

 

“And do you think Eight is in one of those offices?” Tani asked.

 

“I don’t. Not that I think your logic is unsound, Agent 4, but they aren’t trying to keep us from Eight.” Everyone frowned and Agent 2 went on explaining.

 

“From the sound of it, the barricades they’ve been setting up are away from the centre of the warehouse. They’re not trying to block a path, they’re trying to make one, force whoever enters down the gauntlet of a single path towards Eight. Even if whoever goes in reaches Eight, they’ll be trapped in that room with only one way out.”

 

Katrina swallowed. “They’re really taking this seriously, huh? Sounds like they’re expecting you.” She wasn’t sure why she felt compelled to speak then. Maybe she just felt like she needed to say something to prove she should be there? She felt out of her depth. Just who were these people?

 

“It does seem that way,” Agent 2 agreed. Then she looked at the black inkling. “Agent 1, any idea when our guests will be expected to arrive?”

 

Agent 1? So the black one was the boss then? Given her penetrating gaze, it would make sense.

 

“It shouldn’t be too long.” Agent 1 produced a cell phone and stared at the screen. “In fact, it wouldn’t surprise me if they arrived here before Agent 3.”

 

_ Of course there’s an Agent 3. _ Katrina thought. It made perfect sense if Tani was Agent 4, but it implied that Tani wasn’t even the best out of this group and Katrina had lost to her. Sure, she’d never thought herself the best fighter in the world, but she’d never lost against someone her own age since she had been able to transform, and she’d fought plenty of good fighters. Tani had made a mockery of that and it seemed she wasn’t even the top in her own group. It was certainly humbling and being humbled wasn’t something she was used to.

 

“Who’s coming?” Tani asked, looking a bit puzzled.

 

“Close friends of Eight,” Agent 1 answered, and Tani’s eyes went wide. A subtle nod from Agent 1, and suddenly Tani looked a little anxious. She knew who was coming, and her being nervous made Katrina nervous too.

 

“In the meantime,” Agent 1 went on. “Agent 4, you’re on overwatch. Keep an eye out and let us know when they arrive.”

 

“Yes ma’am.” Four stood up, grabbing her dualies. She turned outwards and gave Katrina a wink before she leapt through the bushes and ran into the darkness. It was a full two seconds later that Katrina realized her cheeks felt unusually warm and she lightly smacked them to try and get them back under control. She glanced up and Agent 1 turned away to look at Agent 2, but Katrina thought, just for a second, that maybe she had seen a small smile on that otherwise impassive face.

  
  


\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Eight uttered a soft groan and slowly lifted her head. Her vision swam and the back of her head ached terribly, but a few blinks managed to clear her eyes enough to let her view her surroundings.

 

She slowly turned her head, examining the room around her, but there wasn’t much to see. Tall stacks of boxes on either side of her, dirty and beat up wooden floor beneath her, and a single light source above, hanging from a ceiling that appeared to be made of thin wooden strips.

 

“So, you’re finally awake.” 

 

Eight stiffened slightly. Still not fully awake, she didn’t recognize the voice. 

 

Footsteps behind her. They moved around to her right, heavy and purposeful, unafraid. The figure, an Octoling, came around to stand in front of her, stopping with her hips cocked one way, one hand resting on her right hip. Even with her goggles on, the soldier’s disdain for her was pretty clear.

 

Eight’s mouth was dry, and all she managed to have come out of her mouth was, “why?” in little more than a wheeze.

 

The soldier snorted. “Well, you certainly weren’t on our side. It would have been a poor strategic choice to let you keep running around asking questions and letting things get out of control. Besides, you’re ideal bait. They have to rescue you somehow.”

 

“Bait?” Eight shook her head to try and clear it but that hurt. Still, she could feel her mind thawing and starting to pull itself together. “Who are you trying to lure here?”

 

The soldier bent forward so that she was almost at eye level with Eight, purple glowing goggles staring right into her amber orbs. “The enemy of Octarian kind.”

 

Eight’s eyes narrowed. “Could you please be more specific? Depending on which Minister of Truth you grew up under, it could be a lot of things.” The soldier actually betrayed a small smirk before she forced her serious expression back on. 

 

“I’m referring to Agent 3: the Green Demon.”

 

Eight felt a lump rise in her throat. There was such passion in the soldier’s voice too. And it was that passionate voice that Eight recognized all too well.

 

“Hani? It’s you?” That’s when everything came back to her. Getting in the van, and the sharp pain in the back of her neck, which still throbbed. She had been bitten by an octoling with moderate venom, enough to make her pass out.

 

Hani lifted her goggles, and stared back at Eight with her own lavender orbs. Eight wrestled against her restraints, but they were fastened well. “Why?” She blurted out. “I thought you left the army. Why do you feel the need to resume the fight now?”

 

“Because even if you leave the army, the army never leaves you,” Tani quoted. “Don’t worry, I’m not waging war against the inklings as a whole. We’ve actually gotten quite comfortable in our new lives.”

 

“It won’t be the same after this,” Eight said. “After what you’ve done do you really think they’ll just welcome you back with open arms? Even if they don’t know right now they will soon.”

 

“A worthwhile sacrifice if it means our freedom and those of every other octoling that’s managed to reach Inkopolis. We don’t expect to be thanked for it but we can’t live with doing anything else.”

 

“What are you talking about?” Eight demanded. “Why do you still feel like you need to fight Agent 3 now that you’re here?”

 

“Because Agent 3 hasn’t given up fighting us.” Hani leaned in close, her eyes blazing. “I spent a long time observing her. Even in different colours I know they way she moves, the way she thinks. Every car meet she came to, she was always on her guard, especially around us.”

 

“Well that’s hardly surprising,” Eight said. “Considering how many Octolings she’s fought against. She was afraid someone would recognize her. The last thing she wanted was to frighten everyone. Obviously she was right to be worried.”

 

Hani’s eyes narrowed. “You presume to know her better than I do?”

 

“I don’t presume,” Eight bit back. “I know I do.”

 

“Yes, you two do seem quite close, don’t you.” Hani started to move to Eight’s right, making her way behind her again. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you knew her better than me. Perhaps you know one or two of her own dark secrets, where she lives, what she’s afraid of.” 

 

Hani gently ran Eight’s right, rear tentacle through her fingers, an action that caused Eight to shudder involuntarily. “I don’t suppose  _ this _ is the reason you’ve gotten so close?”

 

Eight gritted her beak angrily. “No, it isn’t. Three and I have been through much of the same together. I would never have made it to the surface if it weren’t for her. She saved my life! I’ve saved hers! That creates-.” Eight’s diatribe was cut off as Hani whacked her in the back of the head.

 

“Idiot! You saved her life? Why would you do that? You put your own worthless, mutant life ahead of our entire species?” This time she gripped Eight’s tentacle hard, making her cry out in pain. “ _ This _ makes you expendable. Your ilk might not be outcasts entirely but you are still shuunkri. Know your place.”

 

Eight gritted her beak and forced herself to speak through the pain. “My place isn’t for you or anyone else to decide. I’ve been welcomed here by everyone, I’ve made friends I treasure like family.”

 

“Including Agent 3?” Hani asked mockingly. “Or, perhaps, especially her.” She released Eight’s tentacle. “I bet she enjoys your mutation. How often does she make you tend to her.”

 

Eight’s face flushed blue with anger. “Never! I’m not a whore, and she treats me with respect. I don’t think she’s even aware of my mutation or what it actually is. In fact, before you, nobody had ever said a thing.”

 

“That will change as it develops further and you age,” Hani said, walking back in front of Eight. “Not that it matters. Pretty soon, Agent 3 is going to come here and when she does, we will finally be finished with her, and octolings all over the surface will be able to continue their lives without worrying that the slightest slip up in trying to be a good citizen might bring the demon’s wrath upon them.”

 

Eight snorted. “You’re not seriously expecting me to believe all octolings feel that wa-.”

 

“You weren't there!” Hani shouted at her, eyes blazing hatefully. “You didn’t see dozens upon dozens of your comrades slaughtered by a single monster of an Inkling. You didn’t have to hear from other sources about friends, family, lovers, dying trying to protect all the zapfish!”

 

She grabbed one of Eight’s tentacles and pulled hard on it, yanking her closer. “You’re too young to have gone through all that. You know nothing about what we went through. You have no right to tell us how we should feel.”

 

They glared into each other’s eyes, whole seconds passing like hours, and then Eight bared her beak again.

 

“You have no right to tell me that how I feel is wrong either. I might not have been there for the duration, but I still fought in the battle to defend Octavio, and then I had to fight my way through to the surface past challenges and obstacles like you can’t imagine. Three went through all of those things by herself, and more. We escaped together, we have a bond I would have thought a soldier as seasoned as you could appreciate.”

 

“A bond with that creature?” Hani spat. “I’d sooner sex a salmonid!”

 

“Hani!”

 

Eight and Hani paused and looked back towards the door where another Octoling soldier stood, hands on her hips.

 

“You were supposed to try and get her to sympathize with us and all you’ve done is antagonise her.” She jerked her thumb over her shoulder. “Leave the rest to me and go check on the preparations. They’re bound to show up soon.”

 

Hani scowled at her and then dropped her goggles back in front of her eyes. “Fine, but I gave her a fair chance. I doubt you could do any better.”

 

“I’m not even going to try.” Hani went out the door and the new soldier shut it before turning to Eight. Eight looked back at her, still glaring but not nearly as intensely. 

 

The soldier lifted her goggles, revealing beautiful green eyes, eyes brimming with warmth and compassion Hani’s had lacked completely. Seeing that, Eight’s expression softened.

 

“My name is Kifi. I don’t think we’ve ever met directly.” Kifi put down her octoshot and brought her hands up to Eight’s tentacles, rubbing them gingerly between her fingers, trying to smooth them out. Eight waited in silence, wondering what Kifi might be trying to do.

 

“Hani isn’t actually that mean, you know,” she said. “The her you met at the car meet is much more the real her. It’s just that since she came up with this whole plan to take out Agent 3, she’s become obsessed and very stressed about the whole thing. Stress tends to bring out the worst in her.”

 

“I’ve noticed,” Eight said bitterly. She winced as Kifi caressed her mutated tentacle.

 

“But you really do seem to have a whole different perspective on the de- on Agent 3 than the rest of us.” She looked Eight in the eye. “Are you sure you know her well enough to say she wouldn’t take us out if we got the slightest bit out of line?”

 

“I’m certain.” Eight answered unhesitantly. “I might not be an,” her cheeks warmed. “An intimate companion, but we are friends and while we haven’t known each other all that long, we’ve been through a lot. She might be a demon on the battlefield, but she’s really an ordinary person outside of it.”

 

Kifi stared at the boarded up window on the back wall, but her eyes were gone somewhere far more distant. She started tugging on her own tentacle.

 

“Eight, do you, perhaps, love Agent 3?”

 

“Love her?” Eight pondered the question. She only had a vague understanding what love meant. When she thought of love, she thought of mother, or of her own poor understanding of true love as portrayed in  _ Cinderella _ . She supposed she cared deeply for Pearl and Marina, and all the friends she had. They were all precious to her, but did she care about Three above the others? Was that what Kifi was asking?

 

“I like her a lot,” Eight answered, uncertain. “I worry about her sometimes. She’s strong, and cool, and fresh. She’s also a very thoughtful person and a much better work ethic than I’ve seen from the average Inkling. I do want to get closer to her and when she finally spoke to me and asked for my help on top of that, I felt like I could fly. I don’t know what that really means but I can say the thought of becoming romantic isn’t unappealing to me.”

 

Her cheeks started to warm, as she herself was only becoming aware of these feelings. They were still nebulous and unfocused, but the thought of being close to Three for the rest of her life caused a strong fluttering sensation in her guts.

 

Kifi actually smiled. “Well, for what it’s worth, I hope you can find happiness. I really want you to survive this. I’ve never killed one of our own kind before; I didn’t want to start now that I’m in Inkopolis.”

 

“Then please, let me go.” Eight pleaded, but Kifi shook her head.

 

“Even if I think Hani is misguided, the others are convinced. They might not be much but they are my family now and I have to stand with them, even at the cost of my own life.” She smiled sadly and picked up her octoshot.

 

“You know, I’m actually the only egg-layer in our group. The others are all barren. Not long before Octavio’s most recent defeat, I got examined and I found out that although I only have an egg-count of two, the quality is actually very high, and I was told I might have a chance to mate in the spawning pools.” Her smile morphed into a frown. “But after Octavio fell, the thought of raising my children in such a place when I knew better options existed, sounded too irresponsible and too inconsiderate of my future children.

 

Kifi held Eight’s mutated tentacle in her hand and gently rubbed the surface with her thumb. “And if Agent 3 is that important to you, then you should act on it. Otherwise you might regret it, because someday, it might be too late.”

 

She let the tentacle fall and met Eight’s eyes for just a moment before she put her goggles back down.

 

“I have to go now. Best of luck to you, Eight.”

 

“Y-yeah. You as well.”

 

Eight watched her go, regret gnawing at her. Kifi really did seem like a good sort, but she had the air of someone who already considered themselves dead. She wouldn’t abandon her unit, her family; she would die right beside them.

 

_ It really is true, _ Eight thought.  _ ‘The army never leaves you. _

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

It was twenty minutes before Tani warned that these “guests” of theirs had finally arrived. Katrina had been expecting some tough looking turf battle veterans or something; she certainly hadn’t expected the hosts of Inkopolis News!

 

“What’s going on?” Pearl demanded irately. 

 

“Please sit down and keep your voice down,” Agent 2 said gently. “We don’t want to tip them off, after all.”

 

Pearl’s face flushed with barely contained anger but she did as well asked and sat down next to Katrina, causing the latter’s heart rates to spike. Marina squeezed between Pearl and Agent 1.

 

Agent 2 calmly explained the situation as best they could understand it, Pearl and Marina listening intently. Pearl’s anger never abated while Marina just looked worried. Katrina was still trying to get over the fact that there were two A-list celebrities within a few feet of her. When Agent 2 was finished her explanation, Pearl’s response was simple, concise, and without hesitation.

 

“So do something already!”

 

Agent 2 stared at her like a nanny might look at a petulant child, and responded calmly.

 

“I understand your anxiousness, but there are tools for every job and not all of ours are quite here yet. We only have one chance at this and we need to do it right. They know we’re coming and they are well prepared.”

 

Pearl showed her beak, waves of irate reds and oranges flowing across her mantle. Marina placed a hand on her shoulder and Pearl’s golden eyes turned to look at her.

 

“It’s okay, Pearl,” the Octoling whispered gently. “They know what they’re doing. Getting Eight back is the most important thing.”

 

Somewhat placated, for now, Pearl settled down, although her mantle continued to throb a dark red. She stared at the ground and tore a few blades of grass up from the ground.

 

“I just hate not doing anything or not being able to do anything, especially after all the stuff Eight went through just to get to Inkopolis.” She closed her fist tightly around the blades of grass around them. “Just to reach a decent life.”

 

Katrina nodded inwardly. She had heard similar stories from the rest of the Octolings. The fact that they remained so cheerful and energetic in spite of all that was one of the most endearing things about them. If Eight knew Off the Hook though, then she landed on her feet better than most, and Marina was probably the most famous Octoling in the world.

 

“Eight will be just fine,” Agent 2 said, sounding sincere. Then she smiled. “And we’ll be rescuing her sooner than you fear.”

 

Katrina heard something like the flap of cloth and then a black on black shadow landed right in their midst. Katrina flinched away and nearly screamed. Pearl had much the same reaction. Then, crimson eyes glowed from within that blackness and gazed over all of them with a cold unyielding stare.

 

“Agent 3,” Agent 1 greeted. “Nice of you to drop in on cue.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heh heh, yes, I'm making you wait for the next chapter before the rescue properly starts. I know, I'm evil ;)
> 
> Eight has a lot on her mind and is being forced to confront things she never thought she'd have to and had never thought about. What do you think?


	25. The Rescue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gang's all together. Now it's time to rescue Eight.

“Dammit, Three; you nearly gave me heart seizures!” Pearl yelled.

 

Katrina was still recovering from the shock of Agent 3’s sudden appearance. Agent 1 and 2, however, behaved as if they had known it was going to happen all along.

 

Agent 3 wrapped her billowing black cape around herself and sat down in the gap between Agent 1 and Marina. Agent 2 produced a clipboard-sized whiteboard from somewhere and a bright-green marker. Agent 3 accepted them and began to draw.

 

Now that the initial shock had passed, Katrina was able to get a better look at Agent 3. She seemed younger than everyone else except perhaps for herself and Tani, but a black mask covered the lower half of her face, making it difficult to tell, and her mantle was a dark-blue colour. The intensity and focus in her red eyes made them almost too much to look at, but there was something familiar in them she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

 

Agent 3 put the clipboard onto the ground and used the capped marker as a pointer. It was a simple drawing of what appeared to be the warehouse layout.

 

“This,” she said in a deep gravelly, but fake-sounding, voice, “is the motor pool. They have all their vans there and it is unguarded for now. There was a small window that allowed me to see into the main warehouse area,” she indicated the large rectangular section that occupied most of the drawing. “There’s a second floor with walkways along the way, providing good lines of fire. They’re mostly occupying this level.” 

 

She then drew two parallel lines leading straight from the front of the warehouse to a small square section at the back. “They’re setting up barriers in addition to some half-height walls to force any intruder into a makeshift corridor leading right to the back room.” She tapped the small square with the marker. “That’s where Eight is.”

 

There were several long moments of silence as everyone stared at the drawing and digested Agent 3’s report. Even Katrina, with her modest knowledge and expertise, knew that attacking that warehouse through the front door was tantamount to suicide.

 

“I assume,” Agent 2 broke the stretched out silence, “that the way in through the motor pool is blocked off?”

 

“It is now. I checked it again on my way out. They’ve stacked boxes in front of the window too.”

 

“There aren’t any other ways in?” Marina asked. It was the first time she’d really spoken.

 

“There’s thick plywood blocking off every window and the emergency exit is blocked off. The rooftop hatches are also watched and likely lead onto the walkways on the second floor.”

 

“Where the majority of them are waiting,” Agent 1 finished. “Looks like they’re banking everything on stopping any incursion right at the door.”

 

“Assuming we even decide to fight at the door,” Agent 2 said, looking up at Agent 3. “Could you get to the room Eight’s in by yourself?”

 

Katrina stared at her as if she were insane.  If they were hesitant to attack that stronghold together, how could it possibly make more sense to send just one of them?

 

“Easily,” Agent 3 replied unflinchingly. “I can probably hold them off for at least a few minutes.”

 

“More than enough time for the rest of us then.” That was Agent 1. Evidently, she had figured out what Agent 2 was proposing, or they had it planned out ahead of time. Katrina still couldn’t see past the insanity.

 

“The rest of us will follow up once you have their attention diverted. We’ll squeeze them between our two forces, but the priority is to get Eight out.”

 

“Damn straight,” Pearl said firmly. “But what are  _ we  _ supposed to do? You can’t expect us to just sit here.”

 

Agent 2 gives Pearl a dubious look but Agent 1 said, “You won’t be. We need you and Marina to guard the motor pool if they try to escape that way.” She taps the whiteboard. “Even if it’s blocked off, they might still be able to unblock it in a hurry and get out. Octolings are pretty good at escaping that way.”

 

If that was some kind of veiled jab at Marina or Octolings in general it went unacknowledged. Katrina stared down at the whiteboard and swallowed as she dared to speak again.

 

“We could disconnect the batteries on the vans just to make sure they can’t use them. As long as the doors aren’t locked it should be easy.”

 

“If you can manage it,” Agent 1 said. “Anything else?” She looked around at everyone, inviting comment, but only Agent 2 spoke up.

 

“I should go on the roof and attack from there. I know it reduces our strength at the front but we need the flanking power.”

 

Agent 1 pondered this for a moment and then nodded. “Alright, we’re all clear on the plan then?” Heads nodded; although, but Marina appeared hesitant. Honestly, Katrina wasn’t feeling terribly confident either, especially without a weapon, but Agent 3 stood up as if this extraordinary situation was routine.

 

“Four,” she said, “I need to borrow your dualies.”

 

Tani dropped down from a tree branch up above, and Katrina was startled yet again. When had she gone up there? How had she done it without so much as a rustle of leaves?

 

“Don’t break them,” Tani said seriously, exchanging her two weapons for Agent 3’s single, larger shooter. “They’re my favourite.”

 

“They’ll either break or they won’t,” Agent 3 replied, the exchange complete.

 

“As long as it gets Eight out.”

 

“It will.” Agent 3’s voice was hard and unyielding. It actually unsettled Katrina a little bit. Tani simply flashed acknowledgement and then let the larger agent pass.

 

“I’m gonna’ go get my dualies too,” Pearl said. I’ve got another couple of guns for Marina and this girl,” she jerked her thumb at Katrina. “Who are you anyway?”

 

Katrina gulped, once again coming to terms with exactly who it was answering her this question.

 

“Uh, I’m Katrina.”

 

“Princess Katrina,” Tani amended with a sly grin. “She helped us find out who scribbled on Three’s car, and she knows Eight. She’s out of the loop, though.”

 

Pearl went through a few shades of green as understanding dawned and then looked back at Katrina.

 

“Well then, Kat, I guess we’ll be working together tonight to get our friend back.”

 

Katrina swallowed and nodded. She normally hated it when people called her “Kat,” not even her father called her anything less than Katrina. But, how could she get upset at this person who’s music dominated almost a whole shelf in her bedroom?

 

“I-I’m happy to help.”

 

“And while you’re at it,” Tani cut in, looking at Pearl. “Can you convince her to give me a ride back too?”

 

Katrina glared at her but Tani’s smile was as bright and sunny as ever. It seemed wholly inappropriate for the situation, but Marina smiled and Pearl chuckled.

 

“You’re on your own with that one, Four. Maybe try relying on your own charms.” She winked and then Tani shrugged.

 

“I would but I’m worried she might not be able to handle any more of my charms.”

 

Katrina rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. “Got that right.” But Tani just giggled and that smile seemed even brighter than before.

 

How could anyone smile like that when their friend was in mortal danger? She didn’t get it. Maybe it just confirmed what she already thought: that Tani had a few screws loose.

 

“Agent 4.” Tani’s smile vanished and she stood up straight and tall as she turned around to face Agent 2. “I’m going into position. Once Pearl returns with her weapons, Three will go in. You and Agent 1 will follow up and after you go in, I’ll strike from the roof. Understood?”

 

“Understood, Ma’am.” Tani’s response was crisp and in a deeper voice than normal. She seemed so mature in that moment, so confident.

 

_ So cool… _ Katrina shook her head. She did not just think that, she didn’t not just feel that, and the heat rising to her cheeks was just stress, right?

 

Tani moved ahead while Agent 2 went over to Marina. She rested a caring hand on her shoulder and whispered something into the Octoling’s round ear.  Katrina couldn’t hear what was said, but she saw Marina’s eyes widen and then her body sagged with released tension. Agent 2 gave her shoulder a squeeze and then hurried off into the night.

 

Whatever she said must’ve dispelled some kind of worry Marina had been harbouring. Perhaps in regards to Eight’s safety? No, that couldn’t be it. Katrina supposed it didn’t matter, and it wasn’t her nature to pry, but she did notice that when Pearl got back, Marina was inspecting the weapon’s ink bottles with particular care.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Pearl must have been parked close by because Agent 2 wasn’t even in position yet when she returned. Three hadn’t been too worried though. Pearl might have been impatient but she was also prompt. She wouldn’t want to take anymore time than she had to.

 

“Agent 3; Agent 2,” came the familiar voice over the radio. “I’m in position and there are no guards on the roof. Looks like they have carved a small viewport through one of the boarded up windows though. They’ll know you’re coming.”

 

“Acknowledged,” Three replied. “Standing by.”

 

“Agent One, all agents. 3...2...1...GO!”

 

Three bolted from cover behind the bush, running at her top speed. Agent 2 and 4 were on either side of her. This wasn’t the first time the New Squidbeak Splatoon had broken into a warehouse and while the building as a whole was not familiar, Three had examined the doors closely enough to know which way they opened and she had recognized that the octarians inside had not bothered locking it. They wanted them to come in, to enter their prepared kill zone. Well, Three was more than happy to oblige, but she would do so on her own terms.

 

Three halted in front of the doors and changed to squid form. Ink built up in her mantle, making it swell and balloon outwards. The timing had to be right, and both other agents nailed it perfectly.

 

They slammed into the large double doors feet first, forcing them open inwards. Three waited less than a second before launching herself through the gap between the opening doors. The octolings hosed the area around the doors with ink blasts, only realizing a split second later that Three had super jumped inside.

 

Three morphed back to humanoid form in mid-air and had to act fast. The ground had already been covered in hostile ink and she would need to blaze a trail, all while avoiding hostile shooting as well. She did have ways of dealing with it though, without wasting too much ink. That wrecked her initial plan of throwing a few splat bombs around to further distract and suppress the octolings.

 

Three made a spot of her own dark-blue ink to land in and then jumped onto the half wall to her left, running along it even as frustrated shots of dark purple ink flew past her head. She did this for a few steps before making another small spot on the floor to jump into and transfer to the other wall.

 

The octolings on the walkways, the only ones with a reasonable chance of hitting her, were frustrated by her constant movement and she was only in view for a few seconds before Three was under the ceiling in the office quarter of the warehouse and something else drew their attention.

 

Octolings screamed as Agent 4 leapt into the air and initiated a splashdown right in the midst of over half a dozen of them. Focused entirely on the presence of the Green Demon, they had allowed themselves to become trapped and crowded by their own makeshift barriers. They had no room to get out of the way. Four hit the floor in an explosion of yellow ink, taking out all the octolings on the floor guarding the entrance’s right side.

 

On the left side, Agent 1 began showering the area with large sticky bombs, coating walls, and floors behind the barriers in magenta ink, disorienting or outright splatting another half-dozen octolings before she finished the job with her roller.

 

The octolings had barely begun to respond to the new threat when members on the left walkway began exploding in bursts of lime-green. Three of them were gone before the others turned around and saw Agent 2, charger up and moving slowly ahead as she aimed carefully and took out each octoling one at a time and saturated the walkway with her ink.

 

Some on the opposite walkway tried shooting her but, lacking their own chargers, their weapons couldn’t reach far enough. All the while, their attention was taken away from the three on ground level who were fighting their way deeper into the warehouse.

  
  


\-----------------

 

Three approached the room at the end of the hall with caution. She had passed several doors along the way, expecting an octoling to pop out of them at any time, but none had so far.

 

She leaned against the door, pressing her ear to it and listening. Of course there was no noise. This was the place she was mostly likely to be ambushed and it was easily the most dangerous part of the operation. There could be an entire squad of camouflaged octolings inside, waiting around and behind Eight for her to enter. It was for precisely this situation she had asked to borrow Four’s dualies. She didn’t have time to think about it though. Any second, octolings could come up behind her. She had to move now!

 

Three slammed the door with her boot, knocking it off its hinges and sending it crashing onto the floor. She then used the splat dualies’ dodge roll to get into the room itself, and then dodged again several times to throw off the Octoling’s aim. Except, the only Octoling in the room was Eight.

 

Three looked around, confused and very troubled. Octolings had always been about defense in depth. They didn’t simply have a single line of defense against intruders, even if they didn’t have large numbers. What was going on?

 

Three watched the doorway carefully, pointing her dualies at it as she moved close to Eight.

 

Eight herself looked a bit drowsy but there were no signs of bruising; although, there was a nasty looking mark on her neck that would need to be checked out. She met Three’s eyes and managed a weak smile.

 

“I knew you’d reach me.”

 

Three said nothing. She put down the weapon in her right hand and used it to untie Eight’s bindings.

 

Suddenly, there was a loud pop above their heads. Eight and Three looked up just as large stores of splat bombs, ink balloons and sticky bombs rained down through large trapdoors in the ceiling right on top of them.

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Getting into the motor pool was surprisingly easy. The garage door had large gaps due to the building settling unevenly over the decades. Marina entered first using her octopus form, Katrina and Pearl followed close behind her once she gave the all clear.

 

Marina carried an ink tank and a common splattershot. Katrina had the same weapon, but Pearl’s splat dualies were a model Katrina couldn’t identify. The two inklings didn’t carry any ink tanks, totally reliant on their own weapon’s ink capacity, which meant they only had a few seconds worth of shooting. Not that any of them, even Pearl, hoped they would have to.

 

The vans were arranged neatly and backed up to the loading dock, which was too high to be really useful for loading them. Marina approached one and was able to open the door easily. They all winced as its rusty hinges creaked loudly, but with the mayhem on the other side of the wall, it was doubtful it would be noticed.

 

Marina popped the hood and Katrina moved to the next one in line.

 

“If I remember right, they do keep some tools inside the vans.”

 

“Doesn’t look like it’s needed for this one,” Marina said as she peered under the hood of the first van. “Looks like it’s just a pin holding the clamp instead of a bolt.”

 

As they set about disabling the vans, Pearl found the door and window Three had mentioned. Sure enough, the window was blocked, but not entirely. Pearl grabbed a few small crates and stacked them on top of the larger crates under the window and then climbed up to peer through it.

 

“Pearl, what are you doing?” Marina asked as she opened the hood of the final van.

 

“I’m trying to see what’s going on. It sounds like a lot of-.” Pearl was cut off by a loud thud, like the biggest water balloon in the world had just slammed to the Earth somewhere nearby. For some reason, all three of them got a very sick feeling in their stomachs.

 

Pearl hastened her climb and peered through the window. She spotted Agent 1 and Agent 4. The fighting seemed to have been brought to a halt as all involved now stared at the back of the building.

 

Silence reigned for several long seconds before it was broken by someone shouting: “It worked! It really worked!”

 

“Hani,” Katrina breathed. She anxiously wondered what she had done. They all did.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Hani’s exuberance was heard even thirty metres away in the small room just down the hall from Eight’s room that Kifi and four others currently occupied. She shared Hani’s relief that part of the plan had worked exactly as intended, but they still needed to follow it through, which was why Kifi and her splatoon had been kept hidden and out of the fight.

 

They burst from the room, their twin splatoon across the hall doing the same, and Kifi lead both the six metres to the doorway and into the mess inside.

 

Dark purple ink coated the floor and walls, even this far from Ground Zero. They rushed into the room. Their goggles were a necessity, as the room’s single light bulb had been shattered in the blast and the dark ink absorbed most of the light coming in from the hallway.

 

They all stared at the overturned chair in the middle of the room and the large purple lump next to it. Then, the lump moved and they all jumped back, weapons raised.

 

An inert, inkling body flipped onto its back, eyes shut, mantle white as death, but they couldn’t tell if she was still breathing. But there was another figure, this one very much alive.

 

“Eight,” Kifi gasped, shocked at seeing the octoling not only alive but seemingly unharmed, Her tentacles still had luster and she was breathing, eyes wide and alert.

 

In disbelief, she looked back at the inkling and realized that she must have shielded Eight with her cape and taken what remained of the blast onto herself. But Agent 3 hadn’t been splatted, she just appeared to have been knocked out and badly weakened. She was still alive.

 

Suddenly, Eight moved and everyone jumped back, their fingers now over their triggers. But Eight hadn’t attacked them. Instead, she lay her body over Agent 3, shielding her and glaring back at all of them, eyes full of amber defiance.

 

Kifi gritted her beak, not liking this situation one bit.

 

“Eight,” she said with a strange brew of concern and irritation. “Get out of the way. We’re so close. We have to-.”

 

“No!” Eight shouted back. “I’ve thought a lot about what you and Hani said, Kifi. You both seem to believe that Three is some kind of monster looming over you, suppressing you, the one thing keeping you from feeling free. Well you’re wrong! So very wrong.” She looked Kifi right in the eyes, as if seeing through her goggles, tears started to well up in her own amber orbs.

 

“Don’t you understand? Without Three, we wouldn’t be free at all!”

 

All the other octolings jerked in surprise and looked at one another, confused. Kifi recovered first and took a step forward.

 

“How do you come to that conclusion? All Three has done is kill us. Our friends, comrades, family-.”

 

“And didn’t we try to kill her too?” Eight shot back. “How many inklings did we kill getting the zapfish to Octo Valley and Octo Canyon?”

 

Kifi bit her lip. “You were a soldier, Eight. You know why we did it.”

 

“But Three is also a soldier. She was just doing her job the same as us! You have no right to hold a grudge against her for that!”

 

“Shut up!” Another octoling stepped closer still and pointed her gun right at Eight’s face. “You didn’t lose people like we did! You didn’t-.”

 

“You shut up!” Eight snapped. “I lost several of my fellow cadets in the last battle, some of whom were my friends. Do you remember what else happened during that battle?”

 

The other octolings shifted uncomfortably. They all knew the answer, but none of them wanted to say it.

 

“The Calamari Inkantation,” Eight said firmly. “The Squid Sisters sang it, and they were only able to sing it to us because of Three. She killed many of us, yes, but not because she wanted to, it was because she  _ had  _ to. She didn’t have to help free us, but she did it anyway! Don’t you understand that? Every octoling here, every octoling in this city is only able to be here because of Three and the other agents.” Eight was yelling now.

 

“Three shed blood, ink, and tears; and sacrificed much. We talk about the sacrifices we made in the army, but we didn’t have much to lose in the first place so how much of a sacrifice was it really?” She glared at all the glowing purple circles around her.

 

“You’ve all seen the lives Inklings live and what they have to lose. A lot of them do live up to the stereotype we were led to believe, but Three is different. She is a hard worker, considerate, kind, and she willingly put the wonderful life she has on the line in order to serve a cause greater than herself, a cause that led to all of us being here. All free octolings owe her a greater debt than we could ever repay! I even owe her my life. Twice now! If you kill her, you’ll never be free again!”

 

Tears were running down her cheeks now but her eyes lost none of their defiant spirit.

 

All of the octolings stared at her, nobody said a word, but they all looked at each other, trying to gauge each other’s reactions. The world beyond the room seemed to fade away and time lost meaning. 

 

There was a soft clunk as Kifi’s weapon fell to the floor. Everyone looked at her. Her head was hung low and her shoulders and back were sagging.

 

“I’m tired,” she declared. “I don’t want to have to fight anymore. That’s why I left the army in the first place.” She looked at the others. “Isn’t that the way we all felt when we got here?”

 

More heads drooped, followed by more guns clattering to the floor. The spirit to fight was gone.

  
  


\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Callie stared towards the back of the building, where that explosion of ink had occurred, where Three had been.

 

She couldn’t believe it- refused to believe it. Three was okay; she had to be. Even if most people couldn’t survive that, she could, right? She had to, she had to survive it.

 

Octolings burst out of other doors in the hallway and piled into the room and Callie felt a long dormant force within her rising from its long slumber.

 

“Keep fighting!” One of the octolings shouted. “Buy time for the others to make sure Three’s finished.”

 

Callie barely reacted in time to get behind cover as the fight resumed and purple ink splattered around her. 

 

She gritted her beak. She didn’t have time for this. Three was in a bad spot and needed her. Four was doing a bit better on her side and Marie had taken out plenty on the walkways, but the initial shock factor had long since worn off and momentum was starting to swing against them.

 

_ Just a little bit, she told herself. I’ll use it just a little bit. _ She had to. If she didn’t do everything she could, then she would never forgive herself if something happened to Three.

 

Callie reached inside her, towards that long sleeping force, and reached out to it. It rose to meet her. Callie mentally extended a finger, and touched it.

 

The Octolings weren’t sure what was going on when they heard an unearthly bellow echoing through the warehouse, but when Callie emerged from behind cover, she was not the same creature as before.

 

Her trademark bow was unraveled and her tentacles were rounder, full with blood and flexing muscle. She jumped, much higher and further than an inkling should be capable outside of squid form, and landed in their midst.

 

She was a hurricane of flailing tentacles which sent anyone they hit flying, and magenta ink from her roller, which she swung as if it weighed no more than a plastic bat. That, combined with the crazed look in her eyes was enough to make everyone run for cover. Even Hani, abandoned any hope of maintaining discipline and ran for the pile of loose boxes that blocked the entrance to the motor pool.

 

She and a handful of others knocked the stack over, and shoved through the door, only to almost fall flat on their faces as their movement suddenly slowed to a crawl. They found themselves standing in a large puddle of teal ink.

 

“What?” Hani cried. “Where did this come from?” She barely finished her sentence before she and the others were peppered by ink blasts from three different directions and erupted into splashes of dark purple.

 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Four followed closely on Callie’s heels as the older inkling hurried down the hallway at a run, roller held in front of her like a battering ram, running over anyone in her way. As she neared the end of the hall, however, she began to slow and Four slowed as well, looking behind them to make sure no more octolings were coming.

 

Callie coated the hallway directly in front of her with her own ink, making a path through the dark purple. Her eyes, hard as diamonds, glared across the short distance between her and the octolings within, who stared back at her.

 

They were unarmed, their weapons lying uselessly on the floor. Eight was lying on top of an unmoving Three.

 

One of the octolings stepped forward and Callie forced herself to remain calm. She might have let go of the beast inside her but its effects still lingered and told her she should rip apart anyone stupid enough to stand between her and Three and worry about the consequences later. She suppressed the impulse but it remained a strong urge.

 

“We surrender,” the octoling declared. Callie and Four both felt a huge sense of relief. Maybe now it was over. Hopefully, Marie and the others took care of the remaining octolings.

 

“Thank you,” Callie said, sincerely. “Please step out of the room please. Four, take them to the carpool. We’ll gather them all there.”

 

“Yes, Ma’am.” Callie stepped aside and the octolings all filed out. Their shoulders sagging but their heads held high.

 

Callie hurried into the room as Eight slid off of Three and lay beside her.

 

Three was in rough shape. Her clothes were badly tattered from the hostile ink, her mantle was a sickly white and the ink seeping through her clothing was doing further harm.

 

Callie hurriedly dumped her ink tank over Three, banishing the majority of the dark purple and forcing it at least partly out of her clothing. She would need to be changed though.

 

She knelt on the floor next to Three and lightly smacked her cheek. “Three? Three, please wake up.” Callie pleaded. Three groaned in response and slowly opened one eye, revealing broken blood vessels that flooded it with blue.

 

“Callie,” she whispered, her voice terribly weak.

 

“Shh, try not to talk,” Callie said. “Can you transform?”

 

Three caughed. No blood or foreign ink came out of her mouth. That was good at least.

 

“I’m fine. Marie’s gonna be mad though.” Three started smiling and Callie couldn’t help but smile a little too.

 

“Why’s that?”

 

“Because the cape is the reason I’m still alive.”

 

The cape had easily been the most worse off of Three’s outfit. It was riddled with holes and threadbare in most other areas.

 

“So you used the cape to cover yourself and Eight? Must be some cape alright.” She reached down and gently rubbed Three’s mantle. It was a little cool. She should probably get Three outside where she could get some air.

 

“And… this…” Three opened her left hand, revealing the melted and wrecked remains of an overloaded bubbler.

 

Callie nodded and gently set the ruined device aside. “Can you transform? I need to get you outside.” She raised her hand to interrupt the inevitable protest. “No arguments. You’re in no shape to walk.”

 

Three closed her eyes and after a few seconds, her body melted into a green puddle, reconstituting into a little arrowhead squid shape.

 

Callie reached for her with her tentacles, grabbing her with the large suckers on the back and then wrapped them around Three’s little squid form until she was completely covered, and against the back of Callie’s head.

 

“Oh,” Eight breathed. “So that’s why some inklings have long tentacles.”

 

Callie smiled. “Now you know. Come on, I’m sure you’ve had it rough too.” She extended her hand and Eight graciously took it.

 

“I’m alright. I’m sure Pearl and Marina are worried about me though.”

 

“They are.” Callie said. “So, let’s go see them now. I think they’ve waited long enough.”

 

Eight’s eyes went wide. “They’re here?”

 

“Yup.” Callie grasped her hand tightly. “Let’s go see them. Oh, and can you bring Four’s dualies?”

 

They had barely gotten into the motor pool when Pearl spotted them and yelled.

 

“Eight!” She ran over and wrapped her arms around Eight’s waist so tightly it nearly forced all the air out of her.

 

“Pearl, take it easy!” Marine warned. “She might be injured.”

 

“I’m fine,” Eight wheezed. “Really.”

 

Pearl released her, and stepped aside to let Marie give Eight a gentler but no less loving hug.

 

The octolings had all been gathered into a corner. Four watched them intently with Marie sitting on a stack of crates nearby that gave her excellent vision over the whole room. She eyed Callie with concern.

 

Her mantle flashed through a few colours and patterns, asking about Three’s condition, and Callie responded with a few of her own. She saw Marie bite her bottom lip, and barely hid the worry in her mantle and face. She flashed a reply and Callie responded green.

 

Pearl turned as Callie approached her, flashing concern of her own but Callie assuaged her concerns with green base and yellow spots. “I just need to take Three to see a doctor,” she whispered. “I don’t suppose you could give me a ride?”

 

Pearl stuffed her hands in her pockets and looked questioningly up at Marina.

 

“Don’t worry, Pearlie. I’ll be alright. Besides, this is something an Octoling has to do.”

 

Pearl nodded and gestured for Callie to follow her out of the building.

 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

All of the octolings, 38 in all, sat anxiously on the floor, the old lights overhead blaring almost hatefully on them, but not nearly as bad as the baleful look Marina was giving them at that moment.

 

As far as Marina herself was concerned, what they had suffered tonight had been mild compared to what a lot of them deserved. Agent 2 had whispered to her just before the operation began, that they were using non-lethal ink, the same kind used in Turf War. So, even if one got splatted, they wouldn’t die. Not that getting splatted with a pleasant experience in any case, and without a respawn pad, recovery wasn’t as easy. Even so, many octolings who had thought each other dead were now sat beside each other a few hours later, looking between themselves and Marina, wondering what fate awaited them.

 

Agent 2 was still atop her stack of crates, charger sat across her lap and loaded. Agent 4 and Agent 8 stood on either side of the assembled octolings, Eight armed with Three’s Hero Shot.

 

Eight had explained what happened in the room. The explosion of so many ink explosives, how Three had saved her, and how she managed to convince the other octolings to spare them both and surrender. Marina had kept that group somewhat segregated from the rest. They had been up and about helping Marina and Eight reconstitute all of the splatted octolings, so Marina knew she could trust them to some extent, but they still needed to be reprimanded the same as the others.

 

Marina cleared her throat, bringing everyone’s attention on her.

 

“I hope you all realize how lucky you are,” she said. “After writing that insult, in our society, you all would have been killed, and brutally so.” Her eyes narrowed as she saw protests forming behind the eyes of many in her audience.

 

“I’m aware that not all of you were directly involved in that stunt, but that’s irrelevant. You all associated yourselves with that as part of being part of this grander scheme, which, I might add, is a crime in inkopolis.” Total quiet descended, now, many of the octolings looking anywhere but at her.

 

“I hope you realize that with one phone call, all of you can be sent to prison, and I can assure you, that after spending a day there, you’ll wish you’d never left the army.” She gave her voice a hard edge. Inkopolis prison was actually probably preferable to the army in many ways, it certainly fed its members better, but they didn’t need to know that right now and it was still unpleasant as a place to be.

 

“However, given your obvious regret and after speaking briefly with Matron Trailmaker and her daughter, we think we might have come to an arrangement in which you pay for your crimes in other more productive ways, starting with Rex’s Garage.”

 

She swept her gaze over the audience, looking for any interesting reactions, but Marie’s icy voice coming in through her ear bud told her instead.

 

“It’s Hani.”

 

Marina was very careful not to look at Hani directly, only through her peripheral vision. According to the group of surrendered octolings, this whole scheme had been her idea, and looking at the file Marie had shown her and what Marina was told about her from the other octolings and Katrina; she was willing to believe it.

 

Marina stepped aside and let the younger inkling step forward, her mantle taking on a more regal shade of purple as she assumed her place.

 

“I know not all of you were a part of our group,” Katrina said, “but those of you who were, I hope you realize you’ve lost any trust or respect we ever had for you. This whole thing was stupid, and this after you all said you wanted to leave your old lives behind. But you know what hurt me- my mother the most?” She let the sentence hang for a moment. “You had a problem and you didn’t try to talk about it with us.” Another silence, this one much more weighty than the last.

 

“We always said that if you had a problem, to come to us. If you were scared, you should have told us and tried to explain the situation, instead, you went off on your own and did something so dumb it made pretty much everyone mad at you and it shattered everything you’d built up until now.” She crossed her arms and glared at them all.

 

“All of you are banned from driving events until you earn back our trust and you’re gonna start by working your buts off at Rex’s Garage. You’ll be upgrading all of his locks, fixing and renovating parts of his shop; and some of you will be working on things like bodywork and light maintenance stuff too.” Katrina’s glare intensified. “Anyone got any problems with that?” There were no responses. They couldn’t even meet this young inkling in the eye, they were so deep in shame.

 

Katrina stepped back and allowed Marina to resume her place.

 

“I’m sure that once you’ve satisfied your debt to Rex, you’ll be asked to do other things, but don’t worry, it won’t be indefinite. Once you’ve built some trust back up, you’ll eventually find paying jobs. I’m told that Rex might even hire some of you if you prove your worth. You should be grateful.”

 

“We are grateful,” they all echoed earnestly.

 

“Good. Now, onto another topic of discussion. 

 

“It’s possible that one reason you all felt compelled to do this is due to difficulty adapting to the Inkling social system. However, this might not be the most ideal for all of us, even if some of us are able to adapt. We are, after all, different from Inklings and we should remember that. We are not greater or lesser, just different. Perhaps some of it is because of our time being raised in a military environment, but it doesn’t matter, we must adapt. So, I think it will be necessary to create our own community system of sorts. So, to start off….”

 

\-----------------

 

Marie only half listened to Marina as she spoke but approved at how she maintained her audience’s attention. The idea of forming their own community system had been her own idea but it was going to be up to Marina to sell it and think of a way to make it work. Otherwise, Marie was focused on Hani.

 

The octoling was displaying some degree of remorse and certainly regret, but also bitter resentment, as much at her fellow octolings as their captors. As far as Marie was concerned, the only reason she was still alive was because she wanted Three to have the chance to do whatever she pleased to the slag. 

 

Octarian culture certainly offered plenty of options for someone to give penance. She doubted Three would be interested in something like a lifetime prostitute or servant, but there were also things like eating all the tentacles off her head, something far less pleasant for an octarian than it would be for an inkling, but she couldn’t imagine Three doing that either.

 

_ I guess it’s not up to me anyway so I shouldn’t be thinking about it.  _ But that sadistic side of her couldn’t help but entertain the myriad of possibilities that continuously popped up in her head. 

 

_ Still, she shouldn’t settle for just an apology, no matter how demeaning it is. _ She also doubted Hani wouldn’t try something like this and what would happen then? Would Three’s iya and father be threatened next? Perhaps even killed? They had only gone easy on Eight because she was a fellow Octolings. She wouldn’t go as easy on an Inkling, especially not after this failure.

 

Marie’s phone buzzed and she retrieved it from her pocket. It was from Callie.

 

_ ‘3 is going 2 b ok. Come home soon to help me take care of the baby.’ _

 

Translation: Three was fine but would be recovering at their place for a while. Probably until the next concert. It was fortunate that Three had told her parents she would be away for a few days prior to this operation. How she had managed to make that sound convincing last minute was beyond her but Marie wasn’t one to look down on their own good fortune.

 

_ ‘Will do.’ _ She typed back, and returned her attention to the floor.

 

Marina was still talking and the octolings were still listening, and Hani actually seemed interested in what she was saying now. Marie still had doubts but maybe she wasn’t hopeless. But how far were they willing to go with a mere maybe? Would Three be willing to risk it? If she wasn’t, nobody would be in a position to deny her. Marie made a mental note to spend more time praying tonight. They were going to need all the help they could get.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the Eight is back in safe hands while Three's life hangs in the balance.
> 
> I know a lot of you were expecting to see Three clean house, especially after all the hype around her skills, but I thought it was important to emphasize that, amazing as Three is, she's still part of a team. And, I think it's pretty amazing that she was able to react quickly enough to save herself and Eight from being permanently splatted. "No capes" indeed :P
> 
> One of the hardest things about writing this chapter was giving everyone something to do, especially Katrina, but I think I gave everyone a little chance to shine. Clearly, you don't want to make Callie angry. You wouldn't like her when she's angry.


	26. Feelings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three is recovering from her injuries while Eight has some questions about the strange way she feels.

The biggest issue with living in a closed off community like Calamari Castle was that accepting the few visitors one actually wanted was a bit troublesome. Pearl, Marina, and Eight waited at the security gate for Marie to come pick them up and let them through.

 

It had been two days since Eight’s rescue and the octoling was fully recovered from the minor injuries she had suffered and looked fresh as a daisy in her maid uniform, a small basket of goodies dangling from her arm.

 

Both she and Marina had been busy the last couple of days, working with Matron Trailmaker and an acolyte from the Inkling Ecclesiarchy, to try and reform the offending Octolings. Rex had even been enthusiastic about the idea of them working around his workshop and making upgrades as part of their recompense. Even though the fact they nearly murdered both Three and Eight had been left out, Eight and Marina had been surprised by everyone’s willingness to forgive. The offenders had been so moved by that forgiveness that they took to what the Inklings were referring to as “community service” with vigour, which did much to help rebuild the bridge that had been burned. There had, however, been one exception.

 

Hani had essentially been put under arrest for the time being by Marie, encasing her in some kind of snow globe device. Her hostility towards Hani had not been unexpected, nor had it been unique.

 

Rex had made it clear he didn’t want her on his property and despite the good will the rest of Matron Trailmaker’s shoal had been willing to show the other octolings, they regarded Hani with contempt and scorn. Not a single octoling could blame them, not after the insult she had left on Three’s car, and all of them were well aware that back in the domes, Hani would have already been executed under similar circumstances. Even now, her fate was in the hands of the very one she had burned, and the one Eight, Marina, and Pearl were there to see.

 

Marie greeted them warmly and escorted them through the security hut and onto a small electric cart. She was dressed in a casual pullover, pants, and sneakers, a stark change from the trendy clothes she tended to be seen in. It actually made Eight feel overdressed for the first time in her life, but only briefly.

 

“So, how is Three doing?” Pearl asked as Marie drove the cart away from the gate. “She was pretty rough when we brought her to the doctor.”

 

Pearl had driven Callie and Three to a doctor the agents trusted but Three’s diagnosis had not been glowing.

 

The bubbler had taken the worst of it but the sheer amount of exploding ink had been too much even for her cape and thick clothing, essentially armour, to protect her entirely. Removing it had been one of the first things the doctor had done but even that had its own complications.

 

The toxic ink had welded the zippers together and partially fused the fabric to Three’s skin. In addition, the scissors the doctors normally used to cut away clothing were insufficient to cut through what remained, especially as saturated as it was with ink. Pearl had then bore witness to a display of hysterical strength as Callie summoned the might of her Dreadnaught Squid heritage and simply tore the clothes with her bare hands. After that, the doctor had taken over, carefully removing parts of clothing stuck to Three’s skin.

 

Three herself had been all but unconscious upon arrival, barely awake enough to transform back to humanoid form. That had probably been a good thing, or else she would have been in great pain. As it was, once the clothes were removed, she was given a quick bath to wash away the remains of the bad ink and give her a proper assessment.

 

Three had been badly weakened by all the toxicity in her system and even with the injections the doctor gave her, it would take her a while to recover. It emphasized how close Three had come to actually dying.

 

“She’s a bit stronger now,” Marie reported. “But she’s still pretty weak.” She smirked. “Callie called the doctor and asked her if an ink sac immersion would help the process.”

 

Pearl burst out laughing. “Wow,  _ someone’s _ gone full mom mode.”

 

Marie shook her head. “You have no idea.”

 

“Wait,” Marina said. “You mean to say that Callie suggested putting Three inside her own ink sac to recover?”

 

“Do Octolings not do that? Usually, it happens with toddlers. They can get badly injured or sick. If medicine isn’t enough, a mother can usually put them into her ink sac which dramatically improves the healing process.”

 

“Toddlers,” Pearl repeated. “Needless to say, trying to fit a teenager into your ink sac is a bit more… ambitious.”

 

“I-I’m sure she was just worried,” Eight said. “And if anyone could do it, I’m sure Callie could.”

 

“Oh it’s been done before,” Marie told her. “It’s one of the most intimate and trusting things a girl can do. Heck, there’s a whole kink around it, but Callie and I are still teenagers ourselves, so…” She shrugged.

 

“Let’s not corrupt the little one,” Pearl said with a toothy grin. “Let her experiment on her own.”

 

Eight’s face wrinkled with confusion, the Inklings laughed, and Marina just rolled her eyes.

 

They arrived at Callie and Marie’s home where they found Callie clad in an apron and making soup. The warm smile she greeted them all with helped the visitors feel at ease. Not least of which because it meant that Three was doing alright.

 

They all sat down in the living room and talked quietly among themselves while the soup heated up. Callie explained that she and Marie had been alternating shifts taking care of Three and sometimes sharing her bed to keep her warm and cozy. Three had slept for almost a whole day with a fever until it finally abated and she awoke just long enough to eat a meal and for the doctor to do a house call before falling asleep again. Since then, she had slowly but steadily improved, but she was still weak.

 

“So what’s Four been up to?” Pearl asked eventually.

 

“Mostly been taking up the slack with Three out of action,” Marie answered. “Gramps says she’s doing well but I hope she doesn’t push herself.”

 

Pearl chuckled. “Yeah, I haven’t seen the old codger in a while. We need to get together again and share some rhymes.”

 

Marie let out a resigned sigh. “I’m sure he’d like that.

 

Callie went up to check on the soup and poured the steaming hot mixture into a bowl, giving it a quick stir before summoning Eight.

 

“Oh Eight, could you bring this to Three’s room and check on her. First room on the left.”

 

Eight nodded and picked up the breakfast tray as she had been taught and carried it carefully down the hall. The smell of the soup was heavenly and Eight felt her mouth watering. She had seen reruns of shows where Callie had proven her cooking skills and she could only imagine how delicious this soup was. She wasn’t the one that needed it though.

 

When she entered the room, she spotted Three immediately, tucked snugly under the bed covers, and her soul nearly broke. The inkling looked totally emaciated and weak, she barely had any colour in her mantle at all, looking like bleached grass.

 

She placed the tray on a small table next to the bed and sat down on the nearby chair that the Squid Sisters had obviously used to maintain vigil over their younger charge.

 

Three’s sunken cheeks and the dark circles around her eyes were all signs of fatigue and ill health. Her skin colour had a sickly pallor to it as well. Her only consolation was that she looked somewhat better overall now than she had back during the mission, but only just, and her condition was worse than Eight imagined the way she had acted when she last saw her.

 

_ Maybe she had just been faking it so we wouldn’t worry so much. _ She thought. She wondered if Three perhaps expected to die.

 

Kifi’s words echoed in her mind.  _ “If Agent 3 is that important to you, then you should act on it. Otherwise you might regret it, because someday, it might be too late.” _

 

She had said that before Eight had even been rescued. Had she known all along the plan would fail? She had seemed genuinely surprised when it worked.

 

_ But how am I supposed to act? _ Eight had no idea. She had never felt this way before. All she knew was that seeing Three like this, so weak and vulnerable, made her hearts ache. She wanted to see Three up and about again, aloof and confident; yet kind and thoughtful. And, she wanted to spend more time with her.

 

_ But what does that mean? _ Eight’s mind was being weighed down by mounting frustration with this question. She needed answers, but what questions was she supposed to ask? And whom should she ask?

 

A soft groan interrupted her thoughts and Eight’s eyes met Three’s for the first time in days.

 

For Eight, it was an amazing relief, seeing those eyes. They were drowsy and heavy lidded, but the spark behind them wasn’t dulled in the slightest.

 

“You’re okay?” Three asked in that beautiful soft voice of hers, and Eight feels her chest tighten.

 

“You’re asking me that? You’re the one lying in bed.”

 

“I’m just on vacation,” Three insisted. “That’s all.”

 

Eight couldn’t help but smile and wondered if, perhaps, Three’s pride might have been a little hurt, especially given all the threats and challenges she had already overcome on her own.

 

Callie and Marie both blamed themselves for what happened. Moaning and lamenting how obvious that trap had been, how they should have seen it and how careless they had been. Eight had to admit, had she herself not been so careless, none of it would have happened in the first place. She was sure that Three was blaming herself too, even if she didn’t show it.

 

“Good morning, sleepyhead.” Callie’s singsong voice pulled Eight from her thoughts. The songstress sat on the bed next to Three and gently pressed their foreheads together.

 

“Feels like your fever’s staying away. That’s good.” She held Three’s cheeks in her hands and gave her a peck on the forehead. “Are you hungry?”

 

Three didn’t say anything but Eight noticed the shade of her mantle shift slightly. Three’s mantle must have taken the worst damage and so wasn’t as healthy as the rest of her. Still, she was obviously weak.

 

“Starving,” Three replied and Callie nodded.

 

Eight quickly vacated the chair and helped Callie sit Three up before Callie assumed the seat herself and grabbed the soup.

 

Eight watched, fascinated and allured as Callie gently blew across the spoon, sending the wisps of vapour dancing and rippling into almost nothing before she brought the spoon to Three’s mouth and slipped it inside.

 

Eight wasn’t sure why but she found herself mesmerized by this moment in time. The soft, gentle expression on Callie’s face, the soothing aura she produced, and the look in her eyes that reminded Eight of memories long buried and almost forgotten. She was… motherly. That was the only word in Eight’s lexicon, either Octese or Inklish, that seemed suitable to describe her. She was beautiful.

 

Then there was the look Three had. This one was much easier to define. It was trust, absolute trust in Callie. And between the two of them, they shared a look that Eight, despite her lack of knowledge on the subject had to describe as love. She wondered why that realization made her chest ache.

 

After a few minutes, Marie called from the living room. Sighing, Callie stood up. “Eight, can you take over for me?”

 

Eight’s lips parted as she jaw went partially slack. Her? Feed Three like this? Without realizing it, however, she accepted the bowl and Callie quickly left the room.

 

Eight managed to sit down in the chair, placing the bowl on her lap, but she was a little stunned. Why? Why was this happening to her like this. She was usually much better at adapting. Maybe it was just because of all the things she had on her mind. She seriously needed to get it sorted out. Later, right now, Three needed caring for.

 

Doing her best to mimic Callie, she blew on the spoon, careful not the blow the soup actually off of it, and then brought it to Three.

 

The look Three was giving her wasn’t like Callie’s, and yet, when they locked eyes, the tightness in Eight’s chest fanished, replaced by the feeling of butterflies fluttering about in it, because what she saw in those red eyes was, again trust. But this time, the look was at her, for her. Three… trusted her.

 

Without even realizing it, Eight began to smile and the nervousness vanished, replaced by a simple desire to ensure Three, her friend, was fed and made well. That feeling was one easily resolved and sorted out. She could handle the rest later.

 

 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

“That was wonderful, Eight. You’re really getting better.” Marina handed Eight her plate and she added it to the stack of dishes from dinner.

 

“Thank you,” Eight replied. “Four told me about all the video cooking tutorials on the web so I’ve been using those to improve my skills and knowledge.”

 

“Might as well,” Pearl said, taking a sip of her drink. “We’re paying for it even when we’re not at home so might as well use it.”

 

Eight brought the dirty dishes to the sink and prepared to wash them. Pearl and Marina retired to the living room. They were finally getting used to having a maid around to do chores for them and Eight was glad, because they seemed less exhausted these days than when she had first arrived.

 

She finished the dishes quickly and sat herself down on a chair. Pearl was thumbing through her phone even as she leaned gently against Marina, who was occupied with a thick book. Despite those distractions, they seemed to be enjoying each other’s presence just as much.

 

Although Eight hated to break up their peaceful silence, she had questions pressing on her. Clearing her throat, she drew the gazes of the other two girls and met her eyes.

 

“I have… some questions,” she said. That hadn’t come out as well as she had hoped, but at least she had been able to say it without a quiver in her voice.

 

Pearl sat up and Marina placed a bookmark before shutting said book and placing it beside her.

 

“What’s up, kid?” Pearl asked.

 

Eight swallowed nervously. It was difficult for her to approach this subject; although, she was having a difficult time understanding why. Perhaps it was because of how unknown it was to her, the lack of context she had for it. Nevertheless, that was precisely why she needed to ask questions.

 

“I… I have feelings; feelings I don’t understand. They won’t go away and they’re strong, but I don’t know what to do with them.”

 

Pearl and Marina stared at her for a long moment before Pearl crossed her legs in that dainty manner she did when she was starting to think.

 

“Is this about Three?”

 

Eight felt heat rise to her face. Was it really that obvious? Seeing her reaction, Pearl and Marina smiled.

 

“Eight”, Pearl said. “We know you’ve been crushing on her for a while. It’s not exactly a big mystery that you’re into her.”

 

Eight’s blued face wrinkled with puzzlement. “Crushing? Into her?”

 

“What Pearl means,” Marina said in an overriding tone, “is that you’re infatuated with Three, yes? Even if you don’t understand the feelings you have, you must know what that means, right?”

 

Eight did, of course, but were the things she felt really what lead to that sort of thing?

 

“But, I do not know-, I mean, are you certain? I haven’t even told you what feelings I’m feeling.” The other two, even Pearl, giggled.

 

“Alright,” Pearl said. “Just for the sake of argument and so you can lay it all out in the open, go ahead and tell us what you feel.”

 

Eight swallowed hard, and a part of her wished she could take back what she said, but she pressed on, she had to.

 

“At first, I just wanted to get to know her better, to be her friend. I did become that, but even then, the more I got to know her, the closer I wanted to get. And when they were going to… to kill her, I threw myself over her without thinking. I couldn’t imagine doing anything less. But before that, Kifi asked me if I loved her….”

 

Pearl raised an eyebrow. “Kifi?”

 

“One of the octolings that surrendered,” Marina clarified. 

 

“Ah. And, how did you answer?”

 

Eight sighed heavily. “I said I really liked her, and I told her how great Three was, but I didn’t know if I loved her or not. I don’t even know what that kind of love really is. I love both of you, but it’s not the same. I’ve seen the love Three shares with Callie and Marie, but I don’t know what kind of love that is.”

 

They both smiled and Pearl nodded.

 

“Okay, we get it, Eight. So, what do you want with Three then?”

 

Eight frowned. “What do I want?”

 

“Yeah? Do you want her to be your girlfriend? To date her? Do you want to know if she likes you back? If she does, what will you do?”

 

Eight stiffened. “If… if she likes me back?” Eight had been so focused on her own feelings she hadn’t really thought about what she would do depending on how Three felt. She wanted Three to return her feelings but what was she supposed to do with that?

 

“I… I don’t know,” she admitted. “I don’t know what to do if that happens. I don’t know what the protocol is!”

 

“I didn’t ask you what protocol you wanted to follow,” Pearl said sharply, “I asked you what you wanted. Ask yourself why you wanted to get closer to Three in the first place. Why did you want to know her better?” She leaned back against the back of the couch and crossed her arms. “Ask yourself if you still want to know more.” Then she narrowed her eyes in that way she did right before delivering some kind of heavy blow. “Are you okay with her snogging and snuggling with someone else but not you?”

 

Eight jerked, as if Pearl had physically hit her. She had never thought about kissing Three in the first place much less this ‘snogging’ that Pearl had once described as a particularly aggressive and passionate variation of that. Four had kissed her on the cheek once or twice, but even Eight knew that had merely been friendly and affectionate, not romantic. Did she want to kiss Three the way Cinderella and her Prince had kissed? She tried picturing them in either role and seeing Three as her prince sent her hearts galloping.

 

Blue from the base of the neck to the tips of her tentacles, Eight looked at Pearl, who was wearing an insufferably large grin. Wetting her lips she asked: “What do I do?” Somehow, Pearl managed to grin even more broadly and then shrugged.

 

“You need to tell Three how you feel. Obviously, sort it out yourself first so you can tell her clearly, but you have to do it. Don’t worry about what your relationship status is, just let the relationship take you wherever it leads you.”

 

Eight swallowed hard. “Does… does that mean, dating?”

 

Pearl shrugged. “Usually. The whole point of dating is to get to know someone. Courtship is when you’re looking for a life partner or mate. Don’t get the two confused. Plenty of girls go on dates with someone they’re not romantically interested in, so it’s a bad measuring stick. Just work on getting to know each other better and whatever happens happens. Don’t overthink it.” She lightly jabbed Marina, who had been conspicuously quiet until now, in the side, eliciting a small squeak from the much taller Octoling.

 

Eight nodded slowly. “I understand. I should wait until Three is better though.”

 

Pearl shrugged. “Normally I’m not about putting things off but given her condition it’s probably better that way. It’ll give you some time to sort things out too.”

 

Eight nodded again. “But what happens if she doesn’t accept my feelings?”

 

Pearl’s grin vanished, replaced quickly by a scowl. “She breaks your heart and I’ll break her.”

 

“Pearl!” Marina finally spoke up and gave Pearl a firm shove, teetering the inkling onto her side.

 

“Eight,” Marina said, “These feelings are complicated. How you feel might come to Three as a total shock. Even if she doesn’t return your feelings it won’t be because she doesn’t like it. More likely it’s because she never thought about it in the first place. Even then, that doesn’t mean she’ll reject you. She might agree to date you still. That’s something.”

 

Eight’s mouth suddenly felt very dry, thinking about being rejected. She knew it would hurt, and their relationship would probably never be the same after that, and yet, part of her wanted to try anyway, because being closer to Three, she knew without a doubt, was what she wanted most in the world right then.

 

She stood up and bowed. “Thank you. I’ll think about what I have to do.”

 

The other two nodded and watched Eight as she left for her bedroom. They remained silent until they heard Eight’s door click shut.

 

“Kids sure grow up fast,” Pearl grinned, gazing back down at her phone.

 

“She hasn’t been here very long,” Marina said, a little worriedly. “I don’t know if she’s really prepared for how it is to have a significant other. The expectations...”

 

Pearl rolled her eyes. “It shouldn’t matter. They’re not going to have a normal relationship anyway. They should be allowed to pursue their relationship however they feel they need to. Best we can do is give them a little advice along the way.” She grinned and then added, “we should let her learn from our disastrous mistakes so she doesn’t have to.”

 

Marina glared sideways at her and then grabbed her book to resume reading, saying nothing. Pearl, also said nothing more, and returned to her phone. She leaned against Marina, much the same as she had before, but the Octoling’s front tentacle whipped her upside the head, making her yelp and roll away.

 

“Ouch! Cold shoulder?” Marina didn’t reply, she just stared at the pages in her book.

 

“Awww, come on, ‘Reena, I was only teasing.” More silence and Marina continued to gaze stiffly at her book.

 

“Seriously? The silent treatment?” Nothing.

 

Pearl sighed and leaned against the arm of the couch, opposite Marina.  _ Eight, just wait till you get to this part in your relationship with Three. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't come up with a better chapter title.
> 
> I know a lot of people pointed out that the Octolings seemed to be getting a mere slap on the wrist for what was basically attempted murder. This chapter doesn't really address it all that much. I tried adding a scene but it just didn't fit into the flow of the story and I felt that later chapters address it better already anyway. They are getting off pretty easy, no denying that, but not without purpose and not without the NSS thinking about the future. And the Octolings are victims in their own way.
> 
> As for this chapter, it's focused more on the bonds Eight has with Pearl and Marina; and Three has with Callie and Marie, so it's probably close to if not my fluffiest chapter. We've also got some more Agent 24 stuff here so hopefully you like that ;)
> 
> Only two chapters to go!


	27. Time Doesn't Stop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three recovers and goes home, only to be presented with some very surprising information. Now, she must decide Hani's fate.

By the third day since the incident, Three was finally able to get out of bed and walk around a little, as long as she had someone to support her. It was sufficient that Callie and Marie were able to give Three her first real bath since the incident.

 

Seeing the other two girls bare really highlighted just what their fitters and makeup artists had been saying about them needing new costumes. Callie and Marie’s hips were broader and rounder than ever and neither had apparently quite gotten used to it because when they sat down in the bath with her, they rubbed against her own much more modest hips. Three wondered if their costumes would last the rest of the tour.

 

It highlighted something else as well. Time was passing, things around her were changing, and yet, if Three looked back two years when she first began this journey, what had changed between then and now?

 

She was still an agent, she still did turf wars, and she was still close to Callie and Marie and Captain Cuttlefish. Those were good things, but her experiences hadn’t really expanded since. Of course, Four and Eight were in her life now but they were still agents and she honestly hadn’t known them for very long. 

 

Truthfully, she didn’t know much about Four other than what she had seen over the past month and a half and what Marie had told her. Yet, she still trusted the junior agent implicitly and Four had done nothing but prove herself worthy of that trust.

 

Eight had been something else. The two of them had saved each other and that had created some kind of bond between them she doubted either of them could explain. Yet, she knew Eight even less well than she did Four. The night of her rescue seriously lampshaded that, and Three knew it was her own fault.

 

By the fourth day, Three was able to walk on her own, her vitality already much improved. Callie and Marie had to go back on their tour and Three was in no condition to act as their bodyguard, so Marie drove her home.

 

“Are you sure you’re okay to walk all the way by yourself?” Marie asked her worriedly.

 

Three flashed green, a healthy bright green she hadn’t been able to manage even that morning and extricated herself from the car carefully but without difficulty. She looked back at Marie and turned her mantle a bright passionate pink with bright orange and green spots.  _ I love you. _ Marie smiled and returned the display, then drove away.

 

Three was glad no one had been walking by to see her getting out of Marie’s car. Everyone would ask who her rich friend was. She also hoped that her mantle was vital enough to have displayed the spots well enough. Displaying only that particular shade of pink would have meant “I love you” in a more… intimate context. Gossip would eventually get back to her parents and that was something Three wanted to avoid.

 

As she walked up the steps to her house, she tried to make herself look as vital as possible. Even if she couldn’t hide the fact she was at less than full strength, she could at least hide the degree of weariness.

 

Her iya answered the door and hugged her tightly. “Oh, Cortina, I’m so happy you’re home.”

 

Three hugged her back, but something immediately nagged at her. Her iya’s hug seemed different somehow, and she felt a bit warm. Was she sick? She had called and texted several times over the past couple of days to let her parents know she was alright, without letting on to the fact she had been hurt at all. Surely they couldn’t have known what really happened.

 

She was brought inside and to her father. He didn’t seem nearly as worried, which helped alleviate some of her concerns, only for Purdie to admonish him for not being worried enough. That was a bit unusual for her. Something was going on and Three didn’t like it.

 

Even if she did fool Purdie regarding the extent of damage, she had noticed right away how skinny she had become and immediately set about making dinner. While she did, Three approached her father.

 

“Is she okay? She’s acting a little strange.”

 

He just grinned and Three thought she caught a gleam of mischief in those eyes of his and he seemed… younger somehow.

 

“You’ll find out,” was all he said. Three crossed her arms and her tentacles and glared at him but he just laughed her off. “Nice try, sweet roll, but even your mother couldn’t get things out of me with a glare. I’m not going to be intimidated by my own daughter.”

 

Three latched onto the sides of his head with her suckers and leaned towards him, her ruby red eyes intensifying as her mantle’s hue changed to match them. “What makes you think I’m not even worse than Mama was?”

 

He faltered for just a second but quickly brought his smile back and pinched her cheeks. “Because you’ll always be my baby girl.” That brought a swift and humiliating end to that conversation. It seemed that, like her mother, she was weak to her father’s charms, and he knew it, damn him.

 

Three gave her mother’s photo her traditional greeting and then went up to her room to rest before dinner, her mind bothered by her parent’s odd behavior. She came back down for dinner about an hour later, hoping that the mystery would finally be revealed.

 

Purdie had not gone half-hearted with her cooking. Not only had she made some of Three’s favourites, but the quantity of it was almost double the normal.

 

“Sorry,” she said, very apologetically. “I made too much food.”

 

“I’m sure Cortina will eat most of it,” Dekin grinned. “Especially since it looks like she’s barely eaten a thing the past few days.”

 

That was somewhat true but only because she had been sleeping the rest of the time. In any case, she would do her best to put a dent in the meal. The rest would end up as leftovers.

 

As she ate she noticed Purdie constantly glancing at her and then looking away any time there was a risk of their eyes meeting. She was anxious about something and Three was too weary to play games right now, especially after worrying so much about who might have figured out her identity.

 

“Iya,” she said, working hard to keep the irritation and weariness out of her voice. “What’s going on?”

 

Purdie flinched and finally met her daughter’s eyes. Three held them levelly for a few seconds and her iya finally seemed to relent. She reached out to grasp Dekin’s hand. Three tensed and hear heart rates spiked until her iya smiled at her, her mantle turning rosey pink.

 

“Well, Cortina, your father and I we… well, um…” Her cheeks tinted blue and for some reason, Three felt her stomach drop like lead. “You’re going to be a big sister.”

 

Three blinked once, twice, three times. And then, her mantle changed to bright orange and began flashing. “What?”

 

\-------------------------

 

Her parents never went into detail about how or when. Honestly those were details Three had no need or desire to know, but as she clambered tiredly up the steps to her bedroom and then lay on her bed, she was once again reminded of the relentless march of time.

 

She stared at the ceiling, still trying to come to terms with this sudden change in her life, remembering how she had been thinking earlier that nothing much had changed in the past two years since becoming an agent.

 

“But this isn’t a change I’m making,” she whispered to herself. This was a change outside of her control, something life had thrown her way. The only meaningful change resulting from a decision of her own had been to do with her mother’s car. That hadn’t really changed her direction in life though.

 

She grabbed her phone from the night table and stared at the screen. No messages, so she started looking aimlessly through her list of contracts. She scrolled through past Callie and then stopped at Eight.

 

_ Eight. _ The name echoed in her mind a few times. Before the incident with her kidnapping, she never thought of Eight as much more than a fellow agent - a comrade, and friend. That night; however, while scouting around the building’s perimeter, she had heard Eight speaking with Hani and then Kifi through the plywood over the window. The things she had heard she could never unhear, and now that she was more recovered and her mind more clear, she had time to think on those things, willing or not.

 

Three sighed and casually tossed her phone onto another part of the bed. Before she could think about any of that, she should think about how becoming a big sister was going to affect her life. At home, she would probably help look after them, she’d probably babysit a lot and obviously help raise them. But, if she was going to end up working as Callie and Marie’s full-time bodyguard would she be able to do that properly? Likely not.

 

She groaned and rolled onto her stomach, burying her face in her pillow. She had never thought of herself as big sister material, and even if she liked babies as much as any other girl, that didn’t mean she was good at handling them. With the terrible things she had done with her hands, did she trust them with something as precious and delicate as a baby? Especially her siblings?

 

“I hope they are at least able to grow up with their mother.” The last thing Three wanted was for what happened to her to happen to them, and they would be the only ones in the family who hadn’t known Fulvia Scarletteri, the one who’s family name they would be hatched with.

 

Three turned her head to look at the picture of her mother on the wall, holding a three-year-old her in her tentacles and smiling brightly. She didn’t want her siblings to look at their mother only through pictures on the wall, nor did she want to lose yet another family member herself.

 

Three sat up and grabbed her phone. She couldn’t foretell the future but she could at least make certain that the most obvious threat to her family was dealt with, one way or the other.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Katrina kept her head high as she strode around the gathering. It was one of the largest in recent memory, even greater than some of the big annual events the car community put on. She knew word had gotten around, it always did, but she didn’t think so many people would come here just for this. They must have seriously been angry.

 

Her mother and father were also busy running around, making sure order was kept. Katrina’s primary task was to make sure her one particular area of the parking lot was kept open in a broad circle. No vehicles could be parked in it, it had to be completely empty.

 

People were already sitting on the hill facing the parking lot and they’d had to kick more than a few off the restaurant roof, all to get a vantage point on the circle they had created in the midst of the parking lot.

 

“Hey, Katrina!” Katrina winced and turned as Tani trotted over, wearing ordinary turf war gear rather than what she had worn the night of Eight’s rescue.

 

“What is it?” She sighed. “Is Maiya here yet?”

 

“Oh yeah, she’s here. She’s near the circle. I just wanted to know if there was anything I could do to help, that’s all.”

 

Katrina had spent a fair bit of time in the past week meeting Tani, Marina, and Eight as they dealt with the Octoling situation. It was remarkable how calm Tani was around people who had previously tried to kill her. It made it easy for Karina to forget the part of her she had shown as Agent 4, that cool, serious, focused soldier. In the end though, Tani was still a kid, albeit one with big connections.

 

“Not really, just try to keep things stable without killing anyone. Oh, is Maiya being bothered?”

 

Tani shrugged. “Not really. She’s good at letting people know she’s not in a talking mood without actually saying anything.” 

 

“Well, she is Fulvia Scarletteri’s kid, after all.”

 

Tani nodded. “You know, I’ve learned more about her mom just my two times coming here than in the whole time I’ve known Maiya.”

 

Katrina didn’t doubt that. Even Maiya herself hadn’t known about this other life her mother had lived. 

 

“Most kids don’t have to worry about losing their moms,” she said. “Even if mine is a real pain and does stupid things, I’m happier having her than being without her.”

 

To Katrina’s surprise, Tani’s smile actually faltered and she looked away for a second, up near the top of the hill but without looking at it.

 

“I guess,” came her half-hearted response. “Anyway, I have to make sure there’s a space for the van to park. They’ll be here soon.”

 

“Good, ‘cause I don’t know how much longer this crowd is going to stay behaved.”

 

Tani hurried off and Katrina resumed her walk. It was almost time and the atmosphere was getting tense. Her parents were worried about what might happen if this whole thing took too long but Maiya had been specific about what she wanted to happen and it didn’t sound like something that would take very long, as long as nothing unexpected happened.

 

She found Maiya, standing with her arms behind her back, her mantle it’s natural green, but with black spots indicating she wished not to be disturbed.

 

It had only been after the fact that Katrina realized Maiya had been Agent 3 the whole time, and it was moments like these where she found it not so hard to believe. Maiya had always struck Katrina as something of a softie and never imagined her to be anything like what she had turned out to be. That cold distant look in her eyes was another thing new to the concept of Maiya she knew.

 

Maiya saw Katrina coming and Katrina flashed yellow, asking if she be permitted to approach. Maiya responded by removing her black spots, granting her request.

 

“Just checking to make sure you’re ready and satisfied with how things look.” A simple green pulse for affirmative. “Okay, Tani said they should be here any minute.” She crossed her arms. “I just hope you know what you’re doing.” Another pulse of green. “Fine then.” She shrugged and then turned her head as a trio of headlight pairs approached, each belonging to a familiar van.

 

“Guess, we’ll find out how this works one way or the other soon.”

 

\-------------------------------------

 

Hani stayed silent as the van drove from the warehouse district up towards the mountains. It was a relief to be out of that ball. As dangerous and threatening as she knew Agent 3 to be, she had discovered personally that Agent 2 was far less pleasant. At least Agent 3 would offer a quick end. Agent 2 seemed happy to let her enemies suffer first.

 

Very little food or water; the contemptuous glares, the elevator music. It had not been a pleasant experience being trapped in that ball. Being taken out of it to go and face whatever judgement awaited her was actually something of a relief.

 

As they drove, the other octolings sitting around her regarded her with something between sympathy and contempt. She didn’t blame them. It had mostly been her idea, after all, and not only had it failed utterly, it had made their situation even worse. It had cost them all the trust they’d built up, and despite the level of forgiveness they’d been given, it would still be some time before things returned to the way they had been, if they ever would.

 

_ Not like that has anything to do with me though. _ Because, she had certainly not been forgiven, nor could she be forgiven. And now, she was headed to what was probably her doom. Perhaps she could be forgiven for looking so gloomy at least?

 

She thought about her life up until now. Working through the labour splatoons as a cadet, a year in the regular infantry before being chosen for Scout School, being handpicked for the raid into Inkopolis that captured the zapfish, after which she was accepted into the elite. From there, it was spying on Agent 3, capturing Captain Cuttlefish, and then spending two-years looking for DJ Octavio while avoiding the agents during their patrols. Those latter days had been the most difficult as many of those closest to her had fled to try and reach Inkopolis after the Calamari Inkantation.

 

After finding and then rescuing Octavio while he was unguarded, she had helped capture the zapfish again. She hadn’t been among those who had captured Callie Cuttlefish, but by then, she had started to become disenchanted by everything. 

 

She wanted to believe in the Octarian cause so badly, wanted to punish the inklings for forcing them to live in such a decrepit state, but it just felt like they were always just banging their head against the wall. Octavio’s latest defeat to Agent 4 had been the last straw and she fled with many others for the city, but she hadn’t been able to let it go. All she had achieved, becoming an elite, being one of the top scouts, the respect she had earned. Maybe she had just wanted that to matter again.

 

_ Well, I could have at least kept or regained some respect if I hadn’t been so afraid. _ Then again, maybe it was the ease with which others had been willing to go along with her plan that she had been so willing to believe the notions with which she’d conceived it. Maybe she had allowed herself to get too panicked upon finding Agent 3 out in the wild, as it were. She was starting to question what her own motivations had been. After all, if she really had been so sure her beliefs were right, would she be feeling as much regret as she was now?

 

The van came to a halt and the door opened. The octolings on her right exited first and then she was urged out. Taking a deep breath and forcing her composure to remain intact, she stepped out of the van and stood straight with her shoulders back. If she was going to meet her end, she would do so with as much dignity as she could muster.

 

A path for her was made as she was escorted through the dense crowd, with Eight leading the procession in full combat dress with her modified high-heeled boots. She could feel the ire of everyone else, like a physical weight pushing her down. They regarded her with none of the warmth and friendliness they had the last time she had seen them. Those she had mere days ago called friends now regarded her only with scorn.

 

Eight stopped and the procession formed a corridor on either side, leading to a large open circle within the crowd. And directly ahead of her, albeit dressed in more casual clothing, was Agent 3.

 

Hani swallowed her fear as best she could and stepped into the circle. It was approximately three meters in diameter, big enough for a fight circle as used in close combat training. She tried not to swallow, wondering if that was what was about to happen here.

 

She stopped one metre inside the ring and looked across the circle into the cold eyes of Agent 3. In those eyes she saw contempt but not hatred. In fact, she was surprised to find she preferred looking into her eyes than those of everyone else around her.

 

Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw her Octarian escorts genuflect earnestly before their former enemy and Hani died a little inside.

 

Hani had always thought the Inklings knew nothing of Octarian society, of their culture and beliefs. The NSS had proved her wrong. They not only understood but they had taken advantage of it.

 

Hani’s former followers knew they had gotten off lightly and thus, by ancient tradition and the personal pride that tradition imbued into all of them, they were compelled to pledge themselves to their service to regain their lost honor. In other words, they were now subservient to the very one they had tried to kill, the very Inkling glaring intensely at Hani.

 

Hani wondered if any of them realized how they had been manipulated. She supposed it was possible that the NSS really hadn’t known and this was just an unexpected bonus, but she doubted it. Agent 2 had struck her as far too clever and devious to be ignorant of that fact with how much she clearly knew about Octarians. In effect, they now had a full splatoon worth of newly devoted and earnest soldiers at their disposal, and Hani knew that too was her fault.

 

Eight emerged from the crowd into the circle and stood next to Three, facing Hani. She glowered at her for a few seconds in a way a girl more than four years her junior should not have been able to, and then spoke.

 

“Hani Corad Hunter Aura Longwatch,” she began, reciting Hani’s full name, “you are guilty of writing a heinous message slandering the mother of Maiya Scarletteri. You are called to atone for that in the presence of these visible witnesses and the gods.”

 

Hani resisted the impulse to swallow again and kept her eyes linked with Agent 3. Seeing them narrow at the mention of her crime sent a chill up her back, so she looked at Eight instead, who appeared to be seething.

 

“Maiya Scarletteri has given you a means of recompense.”

 

Hani couldn’t hide her surprise. Recompense meant there was a way she could get out of this with her life intact. There were fates worse than death, but at least she had the option to choose.

 

She saw Eight grit her jaw before she lifted her hand and held up one finger.

 

“One: you will prostrate yourself before her and apologize for what you said and take it back.” She held up a second finger. “Two: you acknowledge that if you deliberately harm, injure, or kill anyone Maiya Scarletteri considers family or true family, your life is forfeit.”

 

This caused a stir in the audience and Hani heard gasps. Suddenly the feeling of scorn on her lifted. She shifted her gaze to the audience surrounding her and instead saw confusion, shock, and worry etched in their faces. Had they not understood what was going on here?

 

“Three,” Eight barked, making sure her voice was heard over the murmuring, which quickly fell silent. “You submit to the punishment given to your fellow conspirators. And Four: If you damage, deface, or otherwise sabotage her car again, or conspire to do so, you also forfeit your life.” She let her hand fall to her side. “That is all.”

 

Hani’s eyes tracked the hand as it fell and then she stared at the ground. It was quite the spectre to have held over her, worried that anyone who might pick a fight with her could be related to Agent 3 and if she tried to defend herself, she might be killed by Agent 3 anyway. She knew why she was doing it though. Obviously she was worried about her family if she remained alive but didn’t want to kill her outside of combat if she could avoid it. But it was painfully clear she was willing to do so.

 

Hani knew that these demands were more than reasonable for what she’d done and she should be grateful, but the idea knowing she had something else hanging over hear head like that, unable to comfortably defend herself from any attacker, especially in a place she still didn’t fully understand, was too much. But what else could she do? She couldn’t think of a single counter proposal that would be any better. In the end, the offer she was being given was more freedom than she would ever deserve, even if it was utterly humiliating.

 

Hani gritted her teeth and slowly fell down to her knees and then forward onto her hands.

 

“I… I’m sorry for calling your mother a shuunkri and a whore and for calling you a whore as well. I swear on my mother’s name, I will never knowingly harm or bring harm to anyone you consider family. I will accept the overall punishment put on us and I will never damage, deface or sabotage your car.”

 

Her pride was in taters on the ground around her, at the feet of the enemy she had hated for so long. But what mattered to her more than pride, more than revenge, was freedom, even if she could have just a little of it.

 

Footsteps approached her, those of Agent 3, and she couldn’t help but shake fearfully. They stopped and Hani lifted her head just as a small container was held out to her.

 

She stared at the container, a small disposable one, and then up at Agent 3. Her eyes were even, no longer holding contempt, but held just a hint of warmth in the cold.

 

Shifting back onto her knees she accepted the small container and then, without a word, the inkling turned around and walked out of the circle, leaving the audience and Hani, stunned.

 

Hani sat and stared at the small container. She grasped the lid and the octolings around her backed away, expecting some kind of ink bomb inside. Instead, Hani sensed a pleasant smell, and when she opened it, she found what appeared to be food inside. Reaching in with a hand, she plucked a small piece out and tossed it in her mouth. It was delicious!

 

She looked up, gazing at the spot in the rapidly disintegrating circle Agent 3 had left through and wondered,  _ why? _ Was this some kind of peace offering? Had she never intended to take her life in the first place?

 

Hani felt her cheeks become wet as tears leaked out of her eyes. Then her eyes shut tightly and she bent forward until her forehead rested on the ground, at which point, she began crying in earnest.

 

She had been wrong, so very wrong. She hadn’t really known Agent 3 at all. She was horrible, beyond horrible, disgusting. As some of the other octolings came to her side, she suddenly wished Agent 3 had simply killed her.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

“You let her off too easy,” Eight grumbled as she sat on Three’s left on the back of the hill, overlooking the mountainside behind the restaurant.

 

“I know,” Three said calmly. “But I wanted peace of mind, and the only way to do that was to either kill her or make her so grateful to me to let her life that she leaves my family alone.”

 

“Assuming her word is any good,” Four snorted. “Still, I’m surprised you gave her the choice at all.”

 

“If we had found her much sooner,” Three said darkly, I would have killed her then, and this silly ceremony wouldn’t have even happened.” She let out a heavy sigh. “But I can’t just think about me. If I’m going to be Callie and Marie’s bodyguard then I have to think about their image too. I forgot that once; I said I wouldn’t do it again.”

 

“I’m pretty sure Marie wanted you to kill her too,” Four said. “Like, really sure.”

 

To the surprise of the other two agents, Three actually smiled. “Callie and Marie have been overprotective of me since I beat Octavio. Also, Marie is… sensitive to anything like bullying or insulting the deceased. Probably because of what happened when she was a child.”

 

The other two agents nodded slowly, remembering what Pearl had told them about Marie’s past.

 

“Besides, there might be other Octolings thinking the same as she had. Me showing mercy and letting Hani live might make them realize that I’m not the threat they thought I was, that I’m not out to kill Octolings just for the fun of it. It was fear that made them do what they did, after all.” She sighed. “Besides, I hate people thinking I’m a monster in my own city.”

 

Four chuckled. “Oh really? I thought you liked that.” Three just kept smiling and said nothing, but she suddenly flinched when Eight gently grabbed her hand.

 

She looked up and stared into Eight’s amber eyes, questioningly.

 

“It amazes me,” Eight said. “As Octarians, we were always taught about how selfish Inklings were supposed to be, and I admit I’ve encountered plenty who fit that stereotype. And yet, everyone in the NSS, Pearl, and now, especially you, are as generous and thoughtful and considerate towards your fellows and friends as any Octarian I’ve ever known.”

 

Three nodded slowly and fidgeted just a little. “Um… thank you?” She didn’t know what else to say. Actually, she wasn’t used to saying anything to Eight at all.

 

Eight released her hand and stood. “I need to head back. I have to be up early to help Pearl and Marina get ready for the final Splatfest of the season coming up.”

 

Four grinned. “Oh yeah, can’t wait for that!”

 

Eight nodded and then looked directly at Three. “Are you planning to work on your car again soon?”

 

Three paused and then pulsed a brighter green once. “I guess.”

 

“Good. When you do, call me. There’s something I’d like to talk to you about.” She held Three’s eyes just for a second and then turned around to climb back up the slope and disappear over the other side.

 

Four frowned. “Well, that’s kinda weird, even for her. Do you know what that’s about?” Three said nothing and consciously kept her head turned away from Four until the heat in her face died down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, the penultimate chapter is here. It's been a long time coming and with only one chapter left, I hope it will prove to be a satisfactory ending.
> 
> So, yes, Hani lives. I know that will rub some people the wrong way, and I think that's a good thing because it isn't necessarily the right thing to do. Three is taking a risk, one that, honestly, many of us wouldn't take, not with our families potentially threatened. But after writing Three for so long, I just somehow knew that this Three, the one I had been writing for weeks, wouldn't execute Hani here.
> 
> Well, hopefully, the last chapter will be more satisfactory.


	28. New Beginnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eight and Three meet and have a long-awaited discussion.

Callie and Marie squealed in that way only females could as they were told the good news, and Three quickly found herself sandwiched between them as they trapped her in a powerful, simultaneous hug.

 

“Oh, our baby Three is going to be a big sister!” Callie gushed, actually tearing up a little.

 

“Next you’ll be dating and getting interested in boys,” Marie added. It was rare to see the more subdued half of the Squid Sisters with such a broad smile and eyes so full of life.

 

“We need to celebrate!” Callie pumped her fist in the air and started bouncing on the balls of her feet. “I think once our tour is over, we ought to do something together.”

 

“Like what?” Marie asked.

 

Callie bounded over to her laptop and opened the internet browser. “Anything! We’re rich young celebrities with two even younger agents who haven’t had a chance to live yet. Why don’t we take Three and Four to the Mikinel Resort? It’s getting chilly and I could use a beach vacation before the winter rush starts.”

 

Marie sighed and let Three go. “I suppose. I doubt it would be for more than a week.”

 

“That’s fine. Even a short vacation can make a huge difference. Besides, the only way either Three and Four have gotten a vacation is by getting hurt. I’d like to change that if possible.”

 

Marie rolled her eyes and sat across from Callie. “You just want an excuse to go bikini shopping and troll for boys at the beach.” Callie smiled shamelessly.

 

“Well, it would be an excuse for Three and Four to do the same.” She winked at Marie and added. “You too. When was the last time you had a date, Ms. Workaholic?”

 

Marie huffed. “You know how hard it is to find someone who’s schedule aligns with yours in regards to free time.”

 

Callie shook her head slightly as she looked back down at her computer screen. “Excuses excuses.”

 

“And when was the last time  _ you _ went on a date?”

 

“More recently than you,” came Callie’s only slightly delayed reply.

 

“And when was that?”

 

Three smiled as the two cousins bickered. She sat on the couch and wondered if she would bicker with her new siblings the same way. Then again, there was such an age gap between them, maybe they wouldn’t be that close. 

 

When her mother died, she had never considered her family might actually grow, but then came Callie, Marie, Captain Cuttlefish, Four, Eight, and now she had two blood relatives on the way. None of them could ever replace the one she lost, she would always only have one Mama, but she felt no less loved.

 

Three took out her phone and looked at the time. “I have to get going,” she declared. “I want to get some work done on the car today.”

 

“Already?” Callie and Marie both looked at her and Three shrugged.

 

“I haven’t been able to for a while already and I’m feeling much better now so I think I should. Besides, I need to clear my head. It’s been quite a week.”

 

The cousins looked at each other, smiled, and shrugged.

 

“Okay,” Callie called. “But just keep the vacation in mind. We’re gonna have to go shopping together sometime too. I bet you don’t even have a swimsuit that still fits you.”

 

“I guess not,” she admitted. “Later.”

 

“Bye bye!”

 

Three left the house and held up her phone again. She scrolled through her short list of contacts until she reached “Eight.”

 

Her hearts skipped a beat before she selected it and was suddenly grateful text messages were a thing as she composed a short message.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

“I still think she went too easy on her,” Marina sighed. “But, I can’t argue with the results.”

 

Marina was staring at her laptop screen as she read the latest reports from the group of Octolings she had since taken under her wing, in spite of nearly killing Three and Eight. Forgiving them hadn’t been as easy as an outside observer might have guessed but in the end, both Eight and Marina knew that their actions had been the result of a lifetime of propaganda and the mythos around Agent 3.

 

“I think getting her to apologize on her hands and knees in front of everyone she knows is pretty weighty,” Pearl commented from across the living room. She had her nose buried in a magazine about the latest in punk rock fashion.

 

Marina knew that this was one of those situations where the differences between Inkling and Octarian culture made it difficult to properly communicate the nature of the situation to her best friend. 

 

Inklings were very social creatures so, by Inkling standards, Hani’s public humiliation was pretty severe. The other NSS members had understood the true nature of the crime and been suitably furious, but Pearl, ignorant of Octarian culture, only had the standards of her own society as context. By those standards, Hani’s crime was more like a cruel prank, a bad jest. From the Inkling perspective, more severe than the insult against Three’s mother was the betrayal of the shoal she had been a part of, and furthering that by kidnapping Eight. Of course, Octarian society didn’t look kindly on violations of trust either.

 

Marina shrugged. “In the end, the whole point of discipline is to ensure that the offender learns from their mistake and never does it again, with the added hope that they will improve themselves for the future and still contribute to society, especially with resources already spent to bring them to that point. It looks like Three’s discipline is working wonders.”

 

Pearl chuckled. “For what it’s worth, I’m proud of her. I bet she wanted to tear her to pieces after what she said about her mom and for almost killing her, not to mention kidnapping Eight.” She let the magazine fall to reveal her smug grin. “You and Eight kept talking about how Three was a monster but she’s just a big puffball on the inside.”

 

Marina felt her jaw clench. She wanted to insist to Pearl that she had not been exaggerating about just how terrifying and dangerous Three could be, but she stopped herself. It had, after all, been that attitude and mode of thinking that prompted Hani to perform her crimes in the first place. And Marina had to admit that she hadn’t thought Three possessed so much mercy and compassion in her, even if, she suspected, it had been spawned of pragmatism as well.

 

“So?” Pearl asked. “What’s Hani been up to?”

 

Marina actually smiled and looked back down at her screen. “Well, she seems to be attacking her tasks with ‘great vigour and zeal.’ Apparently Three really lit a fire in her. She’s reformed so much so quickly that Rex is even considering letting her work at his shop once Three gets her car out of there. Considering he had basically banished her, that’s saying something.”

 

Pearl nodded approvingly. “Sounds like Three might start to develop a more positive reputation if this keeps up. Being able to motivate people to improve themselves is a huge deal.”

 

Marina didn’t have the heart to tell her that the prevailing opinion among the Octolings was that Callie and Marie had been the ones to change Three’s mind and insist on mercy. In the growing Octarian mythos around the Squid Sisters, they were the goddesses that held the monster’s leash. The fact that they had all formally sworn loyalty to them and the NSS’ current members was a consequence, but perhaps not an unpleasant one. It would give them some direction and familiarity that would hopefully keep them grounded.

 

Marina doubted Hani believed the Squid Sisters had anything to do with Three’s decision however, and if she had refused mercy, nobody doubted that Three would have killed her on the spot.

 

Thinking about it, Marina didn’t think that Marie had been acting like herself. Even Four had quietly confessed that Marie had been acting unusually irritable and angry about the whole thing. Marina suspected that something about this whole affair had struck a nerve, something deep rooted. Still, it was a relief to know that even the beloved Squid Sisters were not infallible.

 

“Hey?” Pearl spoke up and was looking around. “Where’s Eight?”

 

“Oh, Eight left a little while ago. Said she had somewhere she needed to be.”

 

“Ahhhh.” A knowing grin split Pearl’s face and Marina’s eyes narrowed.

 

“You know something, don’t you?”

 

“I might have an idea what she’s doing, but I wouldn’t want to spoil the surprise by telling you.”

 

“Surprise? What surprise?”

 

Pearl giggled girlishly. “Well, if I told you then it wouldn’t be a surprise.” She hid back behind her magazine. “You’ll just have to be patient.”

 

Marina was irritated.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Eight tried to calm herself as she walked from the bus stop to Rex’s Garage. The staccato firing of her hearts resonated in her chest cavity and gave her whole body the jitters.

 

Three had sent her a text just over an hour ago that she was heading to Rex’s Garage to work on the car, fulfilling her promise. Now, it was Eight’s turn, and she was wondering where the confidence she had displayed that night had gone.

 

Perhaps she had been riding the high she felt after Three had shown Hani, not only mercy, but given her a peace offering. Seeing that, Eight had felt something tremendous move her soul and she knew without a shadow of a doubt that she was in love. The removal of that uncertainty regarding her own feelings had been liberating beyond description. She had wanted to tell Three her feelings then and there but it hadn’t been the appropriate time, not when Three was dealing with so many other emotions.

 

Now, days later, Eight was finding that her courage had waned since then and doubt was creeping back in. Doubt that Three would be able to accept her feelings, doubt that she would be able to convey her feelings to Three properly.

 

She fretted and fretted, and before she knew it, she was at Rex’s Garage and standing in front of Three’s stall.

 

_I can’t back down now._ _I told her I had something I wanted to talk to her about. I have to tell her how I feel._ Anxious but determined, she ducked under the garage door and stepped inside.

 

Three’s legs stuck out from under the front of the car along with the tungsten glow of a work light. The maintenance manual Eight had been reading to her last time sat open on the car roof. She heard the familiar jingle of a tool falling onto the floor and then Three’s legs shifted.

 

“Is that you, Eight?”

 

Even coming from under the car, Three’s voice had that beautiful, songbird-like quality. When the Inkling slid out from under the car, showing dark stains on her face from the work, Eight couldn’t help but smile.

 

“I brought some tea. I thought you might be thirsty.”

 

Nodding, Three got up from the floor and took a moment to stretch before unzipping her stained coveralls, revealing the dark-green tank top beneath. Eight couldn’t help but admire Three’s strong arms and shoulders as she tied the sleeves around her waist.

 

They sat in the corner of the garage near the door. Eight poured the still warm tea into the cup and Three accepted it gratefully. Now what?

 

“How are all the Octolings doing?” Three asked.

 

“Huh? Oh, well, alright, I suppose. They are all working very hard to prove themselves again. All of them expected to die but they feel like they’ve been granted another chance at life.”

 

Three hummed and stared up at the ceiling. “If it had been inklings that kidnapped you, nobody would have thought of using lethal force. We just treated them the same as we would our own kind. It wasn’t Octo Valley or Octo Canyon.”

 

Eight frowned. “But that makes your task so much more difficult. In the domes, criminals who require military intervention are treated the same as any other enemy. Why risk the lives of good, loyal soldiers just to preserve the life of criminals who are only harming society?”

 

Three shrugged. “In this case, it was Callie and Marie’s idea not to use lethal force. They thought they were misguided, not evil. They turned out to be right, and now they’re contributing to society and other Octolings will know they won’t be treated less by us just because they’re not Inklings.” By “us” she meant the NSS.

 

“But if an Inkling had done what Hani did, would you have felt any less inclined to shoot them?”

 

Three’s face hardened, her eyes narrowed, and her mantle shifted to a dark red. “No,” she said. “But an Inkling would have done worse than she did.”

 

Eight’s eyes went wide. “What? What do you mean?”

 

Three leaned back and looked at the car. It was in even more pieces now, with most of the engine compartment gutted, the engine and transmission sitting on a pallet near the back wall.

 

“The reason Hani wrote such a hateful message was because she didn’t want to hurt the car itself. Katrina helped me realize that Hani loves cars, including this one. As much as she hated me, she couldn’t bear taking it out on an innocent car. Inklings usually don’t get as attached to machines in that way, so they probably would have smashed it and made it hurt more.”

 

Three lifted her right hand and slowly curled her fingers into a tight fist, her mantle turning an even darker shade of red.

 

Eight shivered as an icy chill ran up her back to touch her shoulders. It was moments like this it was easy to remember why Octarians feared Three so much. She tried to steer the subject away from that dark path.

 

“Y-yes, well, I suppose all Octarians have a special fondness for machines. We do depend on them to survive in the domes, after all.”

 

Three’s mantle gradually cooled back to its natural green and she took another sip of tea. “That’s true.”

 

Then, uncomfortable silence hung between them. The mood had turned very much away from the place Eight wanted it to end up, given the main reason she was here.

 

Eight knew what it was she needed to tell Three, but she couldn’t just come out and say it (although that was probably what Pearl would recommend). Now, that would be too sudden, too jarring, especially with Three’s mindset oriented the way it was at the moment.

 

Eight wracked her mind, trying to find something somewhere in its nooks and crannies some way to gently ease Three towards the subject. Then it hit her; a question she had asked quite some time ago but never got around to getting a proper answer. Even if Three didn’t know it, it would at least help break the ice.

 

Clearing her Throat, Eight asked Three. “Sorry if this seems a little out of nowhere, but do you know what bonding and the White Lily are? I asked Four before but she wasn’t able to explain it.”

 

Three stared sideways at her and Eight could tell she was searching for motive. Eight wasn’t surprised Three was a little on edge, perhaps even paranoid, with everything that had happened lately. And her car would forever remind her of that moment when they lifted the garage door to see that awful message all over the windshield.

 

Three took another sip of her tea and stared up at the ceiling, her eyes distant and thoughtful.

 

“The White Lily,” she explained, “Is a symbol representing the deepest form of love girls have for each other. The white implies purity and the green, health. We also think the Precursors considered it a symbol of femininity.

 

“The blooms of the White Lily are heavy and can’t stand on their own, so they need support. People who grow White Lilies will bond them to a small stake in the ground to help them stay upright instead of drooping.”

 

Eight’s eyes slowly widened as she started to realize the symbolism. “So, bonding under the White Lily means holding up each other?”

 

“Yes. My iya told me that males can’t understand everything a female goes through and can’t always help, no matter how hard they try, no matter how earnestly they love you. Sometimes, you need another female to share your burdens with, one you can tell anything to and depend on completely.”

 

Three stretched out her right hand, fingers spread. “But to be bonded, you have to be more than that. You have to love each other, want to be together, to share life together, to make a family together. You need to be able to show each other all that you are.”

 

Eight’s front right tentacle rubbed against her cheek thoughtfully. “So, it’s similar to marriage, but with females.”

 

“Similar, but different,” she said. “After all, though there are some things only another female can understand, sometimes there are things only a male can say and do.”

 

The seriousness of Three’s expression was broken with a smile. “I wouldn’t want to be without my dad, and if he wasn’t there, then Iya would have been all alone when my mother died. He held us together. Even if we could have technically kept going without him, he made it so much better.” 

 

She closed her hand and brought it to her chest and looked directly at Eight again. “In any relationship, everyone should hold each other up and by making ties, we hold each other up when one of us falls. It doesn’t matter if you’re male or female. Everyone has something they can offer to make the relationship richer.

 

Eight felt her mouth go dry and her hearts quickened. She stared down at her twiddling fingers and her feet lightly tapped on the floor. When she finally spoke, it was in a voice as soft as a gently falling leaf, barely audible over the drone of traffic outside.

 

“And… what if you are both?”

 

Three raised an eyebrow at her and then looked straight ahead again. She appeared to think for several moments before she spoke again.

 

“Callie and Marie taught me that you can’t put love in a box. Love has to be free and you should love as freely and as strongly as you can to make the most of it. It’s a precious thing but it’s not wine that you keep hidden in storage for a rainy day, it never loses its value. You should just let it flow and see where it leads you. That’s why we have the Bond of the White Lily in addition to marriage. There’s no reason they have to be exclusive.”

 

Eight smiled again, suddenly feeling much better. “I think Pearl said something similar, albeit not as poetically.”

 

“I was paraphrasing. Callie said it much better. I’m sure if they had known about your mutation, they would have said the same thing anyway.”

 

Eight froze and her lips parted slowly as her jaw slackened with surprise. A self conscious hand went up to gingerly brush her back-right tentacle. “You… you knew about my mutation?”

 

“I heard Hani talking to you about it.” And Eight’s face coloured.

 

“Did you hear anything else?” She asked quietly.

 

“I heard everything,” Three said, putting emphasis on the last word. 

 

Eight covered her face with her hands even as it burned with new heat. Three already knew how she felt, or at least knew enough to suspect. She hadn’t been sure then what she had felt in regards to Three but she knew now.

 

She peeked out from between her fingers but Three wasn’t looking at her, she seemed to be focused more on drinking her tea and keeping her eyes elsewhere. Was she actually embarrassed too?

 

Eight exhaled sharply through her nose, the best she could manage in an attempt to stifle her laughter. Three now looked in her direction, her brows furrowed.

 

“What’s so funny?”

 

Eight giggled, finally coming out from behind her hands. “Nothing. I suppose I just realized even cool squids like you can get embarrassed.”

 

Three huffed. “I’m not embarrassed.” And looked away again.

 

Eight, feeling much better now and her confidence rising again, leaned closer and brought her lips closer to Three’s ear.

 

“Three, I’m in love with you.”

 

She watched the inkling jerk with surprise and saw the tips of her pointed ears turn blue. Her mantle changed the same ruddy colour as the walls, save for the pink spots that sprang up. The reaction brought a grin to Eight’s lips.

 

“S-so?” Three asked. “What do you want to do?”

 

“Well, first I’d like to hear your name.”

 

Her mantle cooling back to green, Three looked at her again, but only a sideways glance. “I thought you knew it already.”

 

Eight shrugged. “Not really. Besides, it means more coming from you.”

 

She heard Three utter a soft groan, although it sounded more like a chirping bird getting up in the morning. “Fine, but I want to know your real name too.”

 

“Agreed.”

 

She watched the coolest Inkling she knew, cheeks a hue of blue, square her shoulders and straighten her back.

 

“I’m Cortina Dacia Scarletteri.”

 

Eight nodded, her smile broadening. “It’s a pretty name. What does it mean?”

 

“I don’t know,” she said stiffly. “My mother chose the name.” Oh yes, she was definitely embarrassed.

 

Eight placed her hands on her lap and let out a sigh. “My name is Hachiko Brath Stonefeller Connko Turfer.” It had been a long time since she had given someone her full name and she had become so accustomed to simply being referred to as “Eight” that it almost felt like she was assuming the identity of another person entirely.

 

“Hachiko,” Three echoed and then she smiled. “I like it. It’s cute.”

 

Eight blushed again but she was happy this time. A part of her was downright giddy that Three thought her name was cute.

 

“So,” Eight said. “I’ve told you how I feel. What about you?”

 

Three’s smile turned into a grimace and her head tilted away, as did her eyes, but her head remained more or less pointed in her direction.

 

“Well… I don’t know,” she admitted. “I don’t think I feel like you do. I do feel something for you, I’m just not sure what it is yet or how deep it goes.” She finally looked Eight in the eye and then extended her hand. “But, if you’re willing to see where your love takes you then I’m willing to ride with you and maybe we can find out together.”

 

Eight thought her hearts would burst as she grasped Three’s offered hand. Three hadn’t totally returned her feelings, but she had accepted them and was willing to let her in to explore those feelings further and help her explore her own, perhaps allowing her love to flow out as well. And maybe, just maybe, they would find themselves riding the same current of love together.

 

Eight squeezed Three’s hand and Three squeezed back, smiling in a way that Eight couldn’t call anything less than shy.

 

“I… do like…. you, Eight…” she managed to say, and Eight beamed.

 

“And I really like you.” She giggled and kissed the back of Three’s hand, making the inkling flush brightly, her mantle finally losing control again and turning a luminous pink

 

“I look forward to seeing where this leads us.”

 

Three swallowed. “Y-yeah, same.”

 

Eight released Three’s hand and gently took her tentacle bulb, placing it in her lap and started to caress it. Three smiled, remembering that time at Cuttlefish Cabin so soon after Eight arrived on the surface, but it seemed like a long time ago now. As for Eight, it felt like things had come full circle and she and Three were starting something new and beautiful. She didn’t have to be shy about how she felt anymore. Now, she had someone special, someone she was determined to know better than anyone else she had before.

 

_ Whence I came was dark and chilled _

 

_ To paradise promised, I arrived hollow _

 

_ Empty no longer; I feel fulfilled. _

 

**THE END**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that's it, this is the last chapter of Looking, Feeling, Touching: the oneshot that became a 100K plus word 28 chapter story. I never imagined it would get like this.
> 
> I want to thank everyone who read the story, even those of you who dropped it. I'm pleased I was able to create a story that so many people enjoyed. Your reviews and comments really helped me keep going and provided a lot of good feedback, particularly in regards to Hani. I really needed stronger advocates for stiffer punishment in order to help argue both sides of the argument better, resulting in a less satisfying payoff than most of you were expecting. Sorry for that, but I know better now, hopefully.
> 
> If you want to know the story of how Marie got a restraining order placed against her, I'm working on a prequel to this story that will tell the tale of the Squid Sisters while they were still kids, and the events that lead up to that terrible incident.
> 
> So, I don't know how many of you managed to notice this, but I did have a bit of theme naming going for a few of the characters, at least for the girls involved in racing (sans Katrina).
> 
> Fulvia Scarletteri, Three's mother, was named after the Lancia Fulvia sports car,
> 
> Three's real name, Cortina, is from the Ford Cortina,
> 
> The mentioned but not seen, Clio, (who might be teaching Three advanced driving techniques if I write a sequel to this) is named after the Renault Clio
> 
> Katrina's mother, Silvia, is named after the Nissan Silvia
> 
> Thanks once again everyone for everything.


End file.
